What Is This Shit?

Goodbye Bloggers, Hello Wordpressers

2011-09-13T22:03:00.003-04:00

Whoa hey! Where are the updates! Whatever happened to the Sean Rose!

Well... life happened.

Or, more accurately, Wordpress happened.

Yeah! That is the link to the new blog. Update those RSS feeds cuz this one is gonna be a dead duck. If you've been holdin onto this Blogger business thinking I had given up on reviews, not so! I've been updating semi-consistently since July and I just plum forgot to mention it here. Whoopsy-boop.

I will miss Blogger. I will. Despite all the horrible spam comments that somehow won't slow up even after putting in a captcha, I will miss this hallowed ground. I maintained a blog on this thing for a solid 5 years. I was 18 when I started this thing. Blogger has housed some of my most startling, embarrassing growing pains as a writer, and I will never forget that.

Good news is that every music review I have written since I was 18 can be found on the new Wordpress blog, for better or for worse. Everything that I found too non-music related - or simply too embarrassing - did not make the cut, but if you're sadistic you can still find them here in all their awkward glory. You can also continue to freely comment on my old Robert Christgau post, which has been consistently getting comments for the past three fucking years and currently shows no signs of slowing (you can also find it by googling "robert christgau is an idiot," which is no small feat).

What else. I'm kind of starting to update my Tumblr again so check that out here. The Wordpress blog might not look great for a while, but I assure you I am workin on that. Hm.

That's it, I guess! Sleep sweely, sweet Blogger. Thnks Fr Th Mmrs.

Just Fucking Give Me An Album To Review Already

2011-05-16T21:34:00.003-04:00

Oh boy! It's all come down to this!!

So I've decided to start taking requests for album reviews again. Aren't you excited?? Oh man I bet you are excited.

I'm not going to lie to you - I am only opening up requests again for purely greedy reasons. I am out of ideas for reviews and want people to throw a bunch of new music at me so I can get motivated to write some posts that are not completely fucking boring. I am currently in a situation where I kind of don't know what I want to write about anymore, so here it is, your chance to mold this dying blog into thine own image.

Whatever the heck you want, man. Gimme an album and I'll review it here. That is the name of the game. What am I doing?? I'm doing nothing. I'll review your fucking album. I've done this a couple of times before so most people who read this blog probably know the drill, but just in case here are some basic ground rules:

-Albums only. I am not doing song reviews or discography reviews or anything like that. I like albums and only want to review albums right now. EPs count because why the heck not.

-Don't expect me to like / dislike whatever you request. It's gonna just be my opinion and that's it! I'm fulla opinions, you better lookout, oh MAAAAAN

-Don't request your own music. It is impossible for me to say this and not sound like a dick, but it has to be said. I have gotten a pretty surprising amount of people asking me to review albums by their own band the last couple times I opened up requests, and I just can't do it and will never do it. It's nothing personal - I just don't feel comfortable doing it, at all. Never have. I would either end up chickening out and not writing an honest review out of courtesy (which nobody wants), or give a too-honest review and feel like shit about it. So just to make it clear: even if you tell me you really want me to review your own music and that you want my honest opinion, I am not going to do it. I'm sorry and I love you.

-If you are requesting an album that is hard to find, please send it to me or provide me with a download link. This is pretty basic and has never been a problem before, so I probably don't even need to mention it. You guys are cool.

-I might not get to your request at all. The last time I did this I reviewed every album that was requested of me, in the order they were requested. I am not going to do that this time. It's gonna be all willy nilly. Sorry fellahs! Hearts were made to be broken!!

-Please request solo albums by former boy band members. Just fucking do it. I'll do it. I want to do it. I want you to ask me to do it.

-Please do not be upset or surprised if I only review boy band solo album requests and ignore all other requests. About a 65% chance of this happening.

-Please do not be upset or surprised if I only review boy band solo albums of my own choosing and ignore all requests. About a 71% chance of this happening.

OK that's probably it. If you want me to request an album, post it in the comments for this post. Or email it to me at spydabass@gmail.com. If you wanna post it on Facebook or tweet it at me that is mostly ok, but harder for me to keep track of. The comments page here is way easier for me. So be a bro and THROW YOUR MUSIC AT ME. MY STATUS AS A MUSIC WRITING GUY DEPENDS ON IT.

Album Review: "Don't Stop The Music" by Robyn

2011-04-12T21:10:00.003-04:00

Taste doesn't make sense. I didn't care about Body Talk Pt. 2 even a little bit the first time I heard it in September. I was on a big Kylie Minogue kick at the time and Robyn was such a critics' darling that I barely gave her the time of day. My cynicism got the better of me, you see. "Oh, a Snoop Dogg cameo," I sniffed. "How droll."

I did get over this attitude, eventually. Thankfully. My buddy Rick Joyce pushed me to give Body Talk another shot, and of course I realized that "In My Eyes" and "Hang With Me" were great and that my first listen-through was some kind of strange fluke (I've still never liked "Criminal Intent" but it didn't even make the full Body Talk album so maybe I shouldn't care). Then I made the discovery that Robyn had sang a song I was in love with when I was 12 years old and I almost wept. Suddenly I was all on Robyn's side, which is a silly and embarrassing thing to admit - that I could only appreciate Robyn's merits after realizing her tenuous connection with an era of pop music I grew up with. In one second I went from viewing her as "some singing lady I do not know anything about" to some kind of 90s teen pop survivor in the same vein as Justin Timberlake. It's enough to make me warm up to anybody. I have a weak brain.

I have been putting off this review for months now. I'm beyond sick of it and I've barely even started writing it yet. It started off as a straight-up Body Talk review until I realized that writing another Body Talk review would be a waste of everyone's time, but that was only the half of it - the truth is that I like Body Talk so much that the idea of explaining its appeal is intimidating to me. But it's worth a shot.

Robyn is unique to me because she deals in vulnerability and genuine human emotion, something that is rare in modern dance pop. Most dance pop stars either take a stab at profundity and fail miserably, or just don't give a shit. Lady GaGa (who Robyn has been wrongly compared to by critics over and over again) is all about spectacle and razor-toothed confidence; Kylie Minogue's Aphrodite is designed to be the Ultimate Never-Ending Dance Party Full Of All The Beautiful People (UNEDPFOATBP). This is all well and good, but Robyn deals in the same sounds and still manages to come across as relatable, which is strange. I am not usually "the guy" to pour over lyrics but my favorite songs on Body Talk - "Dancing On My Own," "Indestructible," "Hang With Me," "Time Machine," "Call Your Girlfriend," etc. etc. - marry impeccable club-ready dance beats with complex, vulnerable, self-defeating lyrical themes so effectively that it is almost perverse.

What I mean is, "Dancing On My Own" is maybe the most effective anti-dance dance song released in a long time. It is a song about sitting alone in the club feeling like garbage and not enjoying yourself while the object of your affection is with somebody else, just barely out of your view. That's it. "Call Your Girlfriend" starts with "call your girlfriend / it's time you had the talk," an opening couplet so striking and upfront that I can't imagine it coming from anybody but Robyn. Can you imagine Katy Perry opening a song like that? With two lines that push you into the most painful emotional territory imaginable right from the get-go? Even the Max Martin-penned "Time Machine," with its bombastic hey-chant superchorus, is all about regret. Doing shitty, shitty things and never being able to take them back. If you can't relate to songs like these then we are just very different people.

This is why Robyn's more attitude-driven songs never clicked with me as much - they feel like a front. A defense mechanism. Or maybe I am just too weak of a human being to connect with them. I imagine there are people who can relate to a line like "you should know better than to fuck with me" but I'm not one of them. Maybe I'm not supposed to relate to it?

So that is what I have to say about Body Talk. Maybe it is time to talk about Don't Stop The Music, a Robyn album that I like but don't have nearly as much to say about. I wanted to do the responsible thing and talk about a Robyn album that isn't Body Talk, which I accomplished soundly by talking about only Body Talk for seven straight paragraphs. EXCELLENT WORK.

Don't Stop The Music sounds like more of a standard 2002-era pop album. Clearly the aggressive-yet-vulnerable Robyn persona has not fully taken hold yet, and wouldn't until her 2005 self-titled album. But there are hints, the most obvious one being "Should Have Known," which popped up in re-recorded form on Robyn but made its first appearance here. Its dejected, defeated tone sounds like an obvious antecedent to most of Body Talk, but it eschews drama for a more introspective morning-after approach. But some of Music's charm comes from songs that would never appear on a modern Robyn album, like the gosh-darn adorable ballad "O Baby" or the hushed fidelity ode "Blow My Mind." I remember not caring about the last four or five songs on it, though. The last time I listened to it.

Oh well. The bottom line is that the instantly relatable themes that made Body Talk so appealing to so many people is not present in Don't Stop The Music, but if you have any interest in Robyn as a persona it is worth seeking out. It's as transitional as transitional records get, nestled between her producer-controlled teen pop phase in the late 90s and her independent resurgence in the mid-2000s. It's probably the last album she put out explicitly tailored for a then-dwindling teen pop audience.

Do you get the feeling that this review was headed in a potentially interesting direction? Fancy that. I don't know what happened. It's late.

Album Review: "Screamadelica" by Primal Scream

2011-03-21T19:33:00.005-04:00

This week I was most definitely going to write a review of a couple Robyn albums simultaneously but right now I'm not doing it. This is because I don't want my Robyn review to be terrible, which is what it would likely be if I tried to write it in state I am currently in. So what I'll write instead is a review of this album I liked a lot in college and that I'm pretty certain I already wrote a review for a couple years ago for a blog that is not this one.

Let me relate, to you, a story. I look back on my first year of college with an irrational wellspring of fondness, but the truth is that at the time I was not in good shape. I was out of my element, see. I was surrounded by a large group of young people (my age, obviously) who drank and smoked and had sex and went places at night. I did none of these things in spades. I didn't go out to a college party until a few months into my first semester, and even then I detached myself so thoroughly from the proceedings that I'm sure I just came across as a sheltered dweeb. The first college party I remember attending consisted of me ambling around outside of a log cabin in the middle of the woods while a party raged inside. I don't remember exactly why I didn't go in - I think I was too scared. Or nervous. Or waiting for a friend of mine to come outside and recognize me. Either way I ended up hanging around outside for a little over half an hour before I finally turned around and left. I walked through the woods and back to my dorm and fell asleep. Parties did not get much better for me over the next year.

I don't know why I'm talking about any of this. But I know that I was listening to Scremadelica a whole bunch during this time. To put it bluntly, Scremadelica was the sound of the incredible party I imagined everybody else was having that I was never having, ever. Which might explain why it appealed to me so much then and why it still appeals to me now. It is the same reason dance music in general has been an obsession of mine since I was a kid - because it represents the fantastic, utopian never-ending night out I always wanted to have, the one that deep down I still kind of hope I'm going to have, every time I go out. With every stupid fiber of my heart. But of course it has never happened and never will happen.

So I guess in a way I - and everybody else , for that matter - should hate albums like Scremadelica for infecting us with this obnoxious impossible fantasy. Because the truth is that nobody is having as much fun as I think they are. Most people are bored most of the time and listen to records like Screamadelica for the exact same reasons I do - so they can feel like they are the kind of person who would take ecstacy and go to clubs on Saturday nights.

I'm painting Screamadelica as the ultimate escapist fantasy. Which it isn't, and I apologize. I'm not sure why I'm writing all of this about Screamadelica and not about that last Kylie Minogue album, which is probably one of the most effective pieces of dance-floor fantasy ever released. This would also be a pretty excellent place to segue into a Robyn review, if this were a Robyn review. Her style is almost anti-escapist, you see. But this isn't a Robyn review, so I'm not going to waste your time with that now.

Either way, it is hard for me to write critically about a record like Screamadelica because it evokes a time and place so strongly for me that I can't imagine I would see it the same way you would. If I heard it for the first time today I would probably never listen to it again. I have almost no desire to seek out anything else Primal Scream has ever done for this very reason. The Beta Band's Three E.P.s occupies a similar place in my mind, which is why hearing their next couple records for the first time recently did almost nothing for me. You're expecting to replicate that memory, the same feeling you got listening to these records when you were 18, but it's not going to happen. Too much to live up to.

Having said all of this, "Loaded" is most likely the greatest song ever recorded.

Album Review: "Collapse Into Now" by R.E.M.

2011-03-14T17:37:00.006-04:00

There are a few things I need to say about this new R.E.M. album. Here are those things:

1) I am glad I listened to it all the way through more than once or twice before I decided to sit down and review it. If I hadn't I would have been all "BUUGUHH IT'S NOT AS GOOD AS ACCELERATE BUHH BUHUHGGUH"

2) It's not as good as Accelerate.

3) More than one record reviewer has referred to Collapse Into Now as their "comeback album," as if they hadn't said the exact same thing about Accelerate three years ago.

4) More than one record reviewer has referred to Collapse Into Now as either a sign of R.E.M. finally returning to their former glory, or as a disappointing mediocrity compared to their '82-'92 classic period. I even recall somebody saying "I'm sick and tired of all these so-so R.E.M. albums!" What these people need to understand is that R.E.M. are a group of 50-year-old men. Their status as trailblazing alternative jangle-men is way, way behind them. If you are expecting them to record a Document or even an Out Of Time again, you're fooling yourself. You need to gauge your expectations. Nothing gold can stay, Ponyboy.

5) These are some of the worst song titles in the history of anything. "Mine Smell Like Honey"? "Oh My Heart"? "Me, Marlon Brando, Marlon Brando and I"? "It Happened Today"? "Discoverer"? "Every Day Is Yours To Win"? I mean - this isn't - I don't know.

6) There are some pretty dumb, dumb lyrics on here! And they are impossible to ignore.

7) Michael Stipe's been sporting a straight-up beard recently. Is it weird that I kind of love Stipebeard?

No. I don't think it's weird.

OK I think the "list bit" has run its course. The truth about Collapse Into Now is that it is a pretty solid R.E.M. album despite some stupid lyrics and boring ballads. It mines their past discography just as much as Accelerate did, but it lacks that album's off-the-cuff energy and affability. You can hear them trying a little harder here, is what I mean. You can tell that the confidence boost from Accelerate's positive critical reception pushed them into trying to make an "important" album. They've also thrown some Peter Buck mandolin back into the mix in a clear attempt to recapture that Automatic For The People magic that does not really work. "Uberlin" is nice, but "Oh My Heart" is another awkward "Swan Swan H" retread and "Me, Marlon Brando" is pretty dull. And despite being an obvious attempt at re-creating "E-Bow The Letter," "Blue" could have been a pretty effective piece of sadness if not for Stipe's completely terrible spoken word poetry oh my GOD MAKE IT STOP.

But here's the thing - the fast-paced jangly "rockers" on this album are good. Very good! This does not make even a little bit of sense. 50-year-old men should not be this good at writing catchy little rock songs, but man, they still got it! Despite having the world's worst title, "Mine Smell Like Honey" is wonderfully catchy and features some never-not-great Mike Mills backing vocals, while "Alligator" and "That Someone Is You" are at least Accelerate-worthy. "Discoverer" is a solid "Finest Worksong" remake, "All The Best" would fit in pretty well on New Adventures In Hi-Fi and "It Happened Today" features some painfully gorgeous harmony vocals in its last minute or so (despite having what my friend Rick referred to as a "ridiculously 90s Sister Hazel-esque chord sequence," which is totally correct).

I did notice - are Stipe's vocals awkwardly buried in a good chunk of these tracks, or is it just me? You can really hear it on "Discoverer," especially. It was the first thing that hit me when I previewed some of these songs for the first time. Strange, considering how up-front and strong his vocals were on most of Accelerate and Live At The Olympia. You think there's something going on, there? Was that a conscious decision, to de-emphasize the vocals? Or maybe he's losing his voice or something. I don't know.

Bottom line: Collapse Into Now is exactly the kind of album I would expect from R.E.M. at this point in their career. To expect anything more from them is wrong. If they continue to churn out records of Collapse Into Now-level quality for the rest of their existence, I will be perfectly happy. If not, well, that's fine. They could retire for all I care. They're a bunch of middle-aged men who have already made a bunch of great, great albums. They don't need to do anything else. If they want to keep recording music, well, god bless 'em.

Still not as good as Accelerate, though.

Album Review: "The King Of Limbs" by Radiohead

2011-02-28T19:51:00.004-05:00

I like Radiohead. I wrote a thing about Radiohead once, but that was like three years ago so I would recommend you not click on that link I just took the time to link. I figure maybe I should tell you what I feel about The King Of Limbs because if I could single out one thing the internet is sorely lacking, it is opinions about Radiohead.

I haven't listened through King Of Limbs in a couple of days but I remember it being good to the ears. Right now I am listening to Tusk by Fleetwood Mac and I kind of don't feel like turning it off to listen to King Of Limbs again. So in summary, the new Radiohead album is pretty good, but not good enough to make you want to stop Tusk just to hear it again for review purposes.

*~END OF REVIEW~*

Aha, OK! Just joshin ya. Hey! You remember how In Rainbows was kind of hushed and mellow most of the time, to the point where Sean Rose sorta didn't care about it for a while until maybe a few months ago and now he likes it a lot for the most part? King Of Limbs is kinda like that, only with a lotta less guitars. Less melodies, too. One might be tempted to label it a throwback to their Kid A/Amnesiac creeper-mood period, but that isn't quite the case here. King Of Limbs sounds different - the emotional stakes are lower, I guess. Yorke's vocals blend with the music more. Kid A was all about pushing the listener into despairing, uncomfortable territory; King Of Limbs just kind of sifts through you, to the point where you will probably not remember most of it until you have forced yourself to listen to it a few times. Give it a few gos. I am not going to deny that it is an album that sounds good, though.

I'm starting to realize that I am not very good at describing music at all. Kind of a problem when music is the only thing I feel comfortable writing about, correct?? "The drums are good." "Creepy electronics all over the place sound creepy." "I like the guitary guitars on this guitar-driven track." This is something I am going to work on.

You know what's a great song? "Give Up The Ghost." OOh, it's like Thom Yorke and Sean Rose are sitting alone in the woods together, reminiscing about our favorite Charlie one-liners in Two And A Half Men. Hey, "Separator," who likes that pretty blippy guitar line near the end?? That's the aural equivalent of Thom Yorke and Sean Rose sharing a chocolate malted at Margie's and imitating our favorite exasperated Jon Cryer facial expressions from Two And A Half Men's landmark third season. "Morning Mr. Magpie"? That's like a third joke about Thom Yorke and Sean Rose talking about Two And A Half Men.

OK, I just made a mistake and started reading that old Radiohead post I linked and I need to point something out before I forget about it. Because, seriously:

"...the fact that they're the choice 'progressive' band for Sublime-loving frat boys only makes matters worse."

Where in God's name did I get this from? What does this even mean? "Sublime-loving frat boys"?? Yikes. I must have been mad at somebody. I must have had a crush on a lady. Something was up. You have to understand - I like to make rash generalizations about things I know nothing about. So what happened here was, I probably saw an In Rainbows poster in the dorm room of some dude I wasn't fond of, and then I sat down and wrote a blog post about it. I was 21 when I wrote that, for Christ's sake! That's something a 16-year-old shouldn't write.

In conclusion, The King Of Limbs is the music album equivalent of Two And A Half Men's tragic cancellation. What else needs to be said?

Album Review: "Urban Hymns" by the Verve

2011-02-14T19:09:00.003-05:00

I have no idea if anybody reading this post now has been following this blog since the early, mostly forgettable days of 2007 (if you haven't then you are better off for it, certainly). If you have, you might remember an old New Radicals review in which I referred to Gregg Alexander's songs as "Big Important Anthems," a descriptor that I thought was a real hum-dinger at the time. But in retrospect the term is much more appropriate in describing another hallmark of the ever-optimistic late 90s: The Verve's Urban Hymns.

For god's sake - Urban Hymns!! That is the actual name of the record. Richard Ashcroft is wearing a bucket hat on the cover. This might be the most intensely late-90s alt rock product ever conceived.

I have no idea why I am writing about this record. Besides nostalgia, of course. I bought Urban Hymns the weekend after my 18th birthday alongside Pinkerton. The latter hit me hard as a vulnerable teenager and has only built in reputation since, becoming my personal adolescent-idiot-bible every time I come back to it. Urban Hymns, on the other hand, has not aged quite as well and I kind of forgot about it for a few years after I graduated high school. But now I view it as kind of a strange predecessor to my eventual (and very brief) obsession with Britpop during my freshman year of college, even if it isn't a particularly Britpoppy record.

Hey! Did you know that 1997 was apparently the Year Britpop Died according to most renowned music historians? Oasis put out that big fat cocainey mess Be Here Now and everybody simultaneously realized they were a bunch of cockmen. Radiohead did OK Computer and the Verve did Urban Hymns which precluded the mellower British sounds of Travis and Coldplay. Blur fell in love with Pavement alla the sudden and did "Song 2". None of this is important.

What do you get with Urban Hymns. You get a bunch of heavily-produced 90s ballads about drugs probably, sharing album space with some vague psychedelia and some attempts at "rocking" that are not particularly thrilling. Not to mention way, wayy too long - "The Rolling People" and "Come On" are not nearly good enough to justify 7 and 15 minutes, respectively. Good lord!! Urban Hymns suffers from that unfortunate 90s tendency to fill up 80 minutes of CD space with a bunch of 3-minute tracks stretched out to 5 or 6 minutes each, making for a needlessly overlong behemoth (see also: Michael Jackson's Dangerous, R.E.M.'s New Adventures In Hi-Fi).

But I would be a bona-fide lying man if I told you the ballads on here do not turn me into a blubbering fool every time I play them. The impact of the big hit "Bittersweet Symphony" has kind of dulled over time for me, but hey. "Space And Time"? "Lucky Man"? "The Drugs Don't Work"? "One Day"? Hoo-jeez. You would be hard-pressed to find alt-rock ballads more expertly manipulative. Big Important Anthems that make you want to hug a man hard. If you don't have a nostalgic connection to this kind of music like I do you might just think it's a load of syrupy bullshit, and you would probably be right. End of review.

I have been living in Chicago for almost a year now. I just recently got a job, so. Now I'm stuck here. Don't think that I'm bitter about this, because I am a happy happy man, having a job that involves me getting paid. This is nothing but good. But I hate listening to music like this because all I think about is home. Of course, there's nothing left for me at home now besides my family - all my friends are off doing better things, and good for them. After I moved back home after college I had a boring job for a year and never left my house, and I was miserable. But fucking music like this, it makes me feel like there is something left back home, and I am abandoning it every second I am not there. It's stupid, stupid. A total lie. Why would I put myself through this??

It's trash. Manipulative garbage. You're better off with Coldplay. Fuck you!!

i am never going to write a decent review ever again

Album Review: "Goat's Head Soup" by the Rolling Stones

2011-01-24T22:29:00.003-05:00

Get this out of the way: anybody claiming that the Stones "lost it" after Exile is a liar who has probably not heard a single Stones album after Exile anyway. Goat's Head Soup is a terrible name for an album, with a fat-butt-ugly cover. There is almost no dignity in having to tell people that the lost gem in the Stones' catalog is called Goat's Head Soup, with a picture of creeper Mick Jagger bathing in mustard on the sleeve. Nobody would want to even look at this fucking thing, let alone pull the insides out of the sleeve and put in on a turntable!! But almost every song is gorgeous and it's a disservice, it is, to not give it a shot.

This is my post-college Stones album. This isn't a review anymore! It's me getting personal again because I don't want to write a review so you will have to accept this. If Exile was the rockin' frat party, Goat's is the hangover. "But the hangover was the second half of Exile!" you say. You're right! Good on you. OK. Goat's is the hangover of the hangover. Second half of Exile is the hangover at 9 A.M., Goat's is the hangover at 4 P.M., still lingering. The dull headache. It's time to stop writing like I'm 20 years old.

"Winter" is the most gorgeous song anybody could write! "Sliding out of perhaps the greatest winning streak in rock history, the Stones slipped into decadence and rock star excess with Goats Head Soup" what a load. Any record with "Winter" on it gets 4 and a half stars from me on principle alone. The rest of the tracks could be Cage The Elephant for all I fucking care. But somehow they aren't!!

" yet the extra layer of gloss brings out the enunciated lyrics, added strings, wah-wah guitars, explicit sex, and violence, making it all seem trippily decadent." Trippily decadent. "they cap off this utterly excessive album with "Star Star" how one man can generalize to such an incredible degree over and over again is astounding to me. There is nothing decadent about "Coming Down Again," or "Can You Hear The Music." "Silver Train" is just goofy, "Star Star" is funny! " And, it never feels more at home than it does at the end of this excessive record." You were on a deadline weren't you.

Mick Taylor was still in the band! Come on! The guy was THERE.

And on that note I have done absolutely the best possible job anybody could do of convincing the world of Goat's Head Soup's greatness. What's the secret to my success?? I've been listening to Rod Stewart's 1974 LP classic Smiler this whole time, the finest rock LP ever to grace this earth. Nothing gets me in "the mood" to "rock" some "roll" better than "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Man" and "Dixie Toot." Just those two tracks - over and over again!!

Album Review: "See You On The Other Side" by the Mercury Rev

2011-01-10T20:42:00.004-05:00

Some part of me thinks that if had I heard The Soft Bulletin for the first time at age 23 instead of age 18, it would not have affected me nearly as much as it has. A small part of me, at least. I don't think that many people would call Bulletin a "teenager album," but as the record I held nearest and dearest to my heart during the summer before I left home for college - a summer that really felt like the LAST SUMMER of my ENTIRE LIFE - The Soft Bulletin became an aural document of every terrifying emotion I was feeling at the time, amped-up and blown apart for maximum impact. In layman's terms, that one album turned a pretty lackluster transition from one boring school to another into The Biggest Fucking Thing Ever, and every time I hear it I feel like I'm experiencing all those confused, stupid emotions all over again. There are very few records that hit me at the right place and the right time like that one did.

But that's the thing, see. Right place, right time. I get the impression that if I heard it now I'd be all like "Oh, this is pretty cool!" while preferring to champion lesser-loved Lips albums like Zaireeka or Hit To Death In The Future Head. Not to mention the unfortunate trend of fair-weather Lips fans shrugging off most pre-Soft Bulletin Lips albums as if they were part of some kind of regrettable "early period," or the fact that the Lips themselves would indulge in obnoxious quirky cuteness shortly after Bulletin's success. Had I not been an impressionable youngster in need of some Big Emotional Drumming during an awkward and vulnerable period of transition, I might have felt about The Soft Bulletin the same way I feel about Yankee Hotel Foxtrot or In The Aeroplane Over The Sea - "It's good, but it's not a masterpiece, people."

Why am I even thinking about this. I am thinking about this because I have been listening to the Mercury Rev, a band that is so much like the Flaming Lips that you might even be inclined to call them their "sister band" if they weren't a bunch of dudes. Not only did they share personnel (Rev lead singer/songwriter Jon Donahue was the Lips' lead guitarist on In A Priest Driven Ambulance and bassist Dave Fridmann produced pretty much every great Lips album you can name), but they even had similar musical "arcs" throughout the 90s. Both bands started off the decade as druggy-pretty noise rockers, cleaned up their sound a bit after losing one of their key members midway, and ended the decade as ambitious big-hearted sweet-rock balladeers. Mercury Rev's Deserter's Songs is pretty much their Soft Bulletin, only released a year earlier, and I feel the same way about it as those previously listed "masterpiece" albums - it's good and pretty and nice, but I'm not goin' nuts. I can easily say that I prefer the Rev's earlier, noisier records, back when "other vocalist" and primo weirdo Dave Baker was still in the band.

Which makes it all the stranger that See You On The Other Side, the first Rev album released after Baker's departure from the band in 1995, has become my most-listened album by these guys. Is it my favorite? I don't know. It's considered by most critics to be a decent but awkward transition between their noisier stuff and their cleaner stuff, so maybe my penchant for bucking mass critical opinion is getting the better of me. But it's a mostly lovely and fascinating listen - especially considering that it was released in '95, a few years before the Lips would indulge in these sorts of Brian Wilson-y pretty sounds themselves. Considering how close these two bands were, I have no doubt that Other Side was an influence on what would eventually become Zaireeka and The Soft Bulletin.

What See You On The Other Side lacks is the full-blown "wall-of-sound masterpiece" production that Deserter's Songs and The Soft Bulletin were going for, but that's actually kind of an asset here. A big part of Other Side's charm lies in its humility and subtlety - its big, emotional moments build gradually, and never feel cheap. It also isn't above incorporating noisy rock guitars into the mix, an element both bands would willfully abandon by the end of the decade - as pretty as "Empire State" and "Sudden Ray Of Hope" are, it's kind of exhilarating to hear both of them ending with chaotic bursts of feedback. Other Side's worst songs are the ones that eschew subtlety for a more obvious approach - "Young Man's Stride" is straight-up hard rock, which just sounds dopey and unconvincing in the wake of all this good-natured prettiness, while on the other hand "Everlasting Arm"'s overly precious Pet Sounds approach pushes dangerously close to Polyphonic Spree territory. It's a testament to the quality of the album that neither song is bad, necessarily - just kind of awkward.

But then you have a track like "Racing The Tide," my favorite on here, which takes a line as simple as "I'm so close / I'm almost inside" and turns it into a gorgeous, immaculately-produced indie rock anthem, full of gentle guitars and violins and trembly multi-layered Donahue vocals. And right when you think it's over, it bursts into "Close Encounters Of The Third Grade," featuring hip-hop beats and wailing female backup vocals that are so wonderfully 90s dated they make me want to cry. I mean this as a compliment.

(Worth mentioning: the album came out in 1995, when I was actually IN third grade. Coincidence? Yes.)

Oh, did I mention the big key difference between the Flaming Lips and the Mercury Rev yet? I don't think I did. The Mercury Rev are big sappy romantics - or at least Jon Donahue is. With Dave Baker out of the picture Donahue was finally able to indulge in all of his sweet romantic fantasies, and See You On The Other Side was the immediate result. Which is why you've got a track called "A Kiss From An Old Flame" on here. It's a more significant difference than you might imagine - can you think of a single Flaming Lips love song that isn't completely fatalist and depressing? Can you?? The Rev have none of that. No sad creepy darkness. Just love. Which is why I don't think I'd be able to handle their later stuff. I've heard they got even sappier after the new millenium, but I haven't heard any of those records yet. I'm rambling.

I've long forgotten how to end music reviews.

Good night.

A Thing That I Am Doing: My Top 25 Albums

2010-10-01T19:22:00.004-04:00

So hey! Where have I been this past month, you might want to ask? Well, I can tell you in one word, friends: TUMBLRRRRR.

No, I'm not moving there or anything. In a rare fit of sportsmanship, I have decided to take on a challenge proposed by my good Chicago buddy Rick and compile a list of my top 25 favorite albums of all time. ALL. TIME. Quite a challenge, I must say.

I have no hesitation in admitting that when Rick first asked me to do this I really, really, REALLY didn't want to. At all. I'm just not a "list" guy, you see. I don't understand your average music nerd's obsession with taking these nice things and numbering them and putting them in a sequence. It just seems like an empty, pointless enterprise. I know a lot of people are AWARE of the fact that it's empty and pointless, and they still have the compulsion to do it, and that's fine. But it's just - it's not me.

That is - it WASN'T me, until I actually started COMPILING the list itself and realized that it was a whole lot of fun! No WONDER these silly nerds like doing this so much. You get to sit around and think about your favorite music a lot! Who doesn't like doing that! Not to mention that I was assured by Rick and a handful of some other friends of mine (making lists of their own) that most of the rankings were arbitrary, anyway. So that made things a lot easier, for me, especially knowing that my friends kinda-sorta felt the same way about making the list as I did.

I've decided to post them on Tumblr instead of here because I feel like the format fits them better, really. I'm doing small write-ups on each record individually, counting up from 25, embedding mp3s and Youtube videos along the way. Each writeup, I feel, is significantly more off-the-cuff and instinctive that most of my reviews here (if you can believe that), so I feel the more circumstantial and immediate nature of Tumblr fits them better.

So! There you go!! If you wanna follow my list, you can either follow my tumblr or check out the "Top 25 Albums" tag to filter out all the other stupid stuff I post. I would also recommend following my good buddies Jason, Krystle, Steve, and Dave, who are all compiling their own lists. I forgot to mention it before, but I feel like my favorite thing about this whole thing has been checking out my friend's lists, seeing what music shaped them growing up, where they're coming from. It gives me a chance to understand my friends a lil better, while examining and strengthening my own connections with my favorite music. It has been much more rewarding than I expected it to be.

I'm already about to hit #10, though, so you'd better get readin' and catch up! I could be done tomorrow! And then how will you feel!!

(Also, despite the fact that Rick was the one to push me into making this thing, he hasn't made one HIMSELF yet. That stupid dope.)

Album Review: "Shout It Out" by Hanson

2010-09-11T19:24:00.004-04:00

sorry, ladies. they're taken.

Well here's the thing: even if Hanson's newest record was a piece of garbage, what would you do? Get mad about it? Get mad at the Hansons? As if the Hansons owed you anything? Who are you, huh? Who?

Who are you??

The Brothers Hanson don't need to keep releasing music records. They have little or nothing to gain, artistically or financially. They started their career with "MMMBop," maybe the best pop song to come out of the 90s, and made enough money from it to last them a lifetime. They come from well-to-do families. They all have wives and kids. They are all relatively good looking, clean cut young men. They seem exceptionally good natured. The reason they keep putting out records is because they like to. They like music. They are never going to be superstars again, but they have a small and dedicated fanbase who go to their shows and support them. They seem to like their fans. As long as they continue to put out records they will be the constant butt of "LOL THEY LOOK LIKE GIRLS" jokes, but it doesn't seem to bother them. They just like doing what they're doing.

Good for them! They're doing just fine. If you have a problem with them, ignore them. Just know that they are probably leading more fulfilling lives than you are, full of music and joy. Who are you? Who??

Thankfully, the music on Shout It Out is actually pretty good. If you are like any other red-blooded American male and have been keeping a constant eye on Hanson's career since Middle Of Nowhere, you might have noticed that their last couple records (2004's Underneath and 2007's The Walk) were semi-decent adult-pop affairs that often pushed too far into Jack Johnson/Jason Mraz acoustic blandness while mostly ignoring the fizzy pop goodness that is still their strongest asset. Shout It Out brings that goodness back in full effect, making for their most pleasant collection of tunes since This Time Around - "Waiting For This", "Thinkin 'Bout Somethin," "Kiss Me When You Come Home", and "Give A Little" will fill your heart with sweet tuneful joy. There are some slow piano ballads that don't do anything, but I would be lying if I said I didn't like "Carry You There" and "These Walls."

There are songs with titles like "Musical Ride" and "Voice In The Chorus." Most of the lyrics are cliche-ridden and not worth mulling over, but who gives a shit? This isn't a Tom Waits album. Nothing on this record is going to change your life, but it may fill you with sweet good vibes. That is all I ask for from Hanson.

It's musical comfort food. Happy goodtime kinda-sorta-retro pop from a bunch of nice men who want you to feel good. Who are you to refuse them? Who??

An addendum: please don't be misled into thinking that it took me almost a month to write this review. It didn't. It took me about an hour. I'm an exceptionally lazy man, you understand.

The lead guy from LFO died a few days ago and it affected me in the weirdest way possible. I can't even describe it. The guy was 35. When "Summer Girls" was all over the radio, he was only a year older than I am right now. I did make a comic about it, if that sort of thing interests you at all.

So, for next time: Jordan Knight, Nick Carter, or a tribute to our dear departed Rich Cronin with a review of LFO's "Life Is Good"? Take your pick.

Album Review: "The Suburbs" by the Arcade Fire

2010-08-17T22:38:00.003-04:00

yeah, eight different covers, but not in a "cool" way

Yes, it's been out for a while. Yes, I was going to review it around the time it came out. Yes, I didn't.

We, as a nation, must move on.

There are so many things I could write about the new Arcade Fire record. And so many things I could write about the Arcade Fire! For the past five years or so they have been one of those "IT" bands, for me. For a few years there they were "that one indie rock band I LIKE", a distinction I have thankfully gotten over. But I can't blame myself for feeling that way; I fell in love with the Arcade Fire because they sounded like they gave a shit, like they had some fucking blood pumping through their veins. They were a band unafraid to embrace passion and heartache without irony, to put everything they had into their music, to scream and yelp at the top of their lungs until their voices cracked. And, thank God, they knew how to write melodies worthy of that passion.

But things are a little different, now. Here's a fun game: play each of the Arcade Fire's opening album tracks back to back (all THREE of them) for comparison's sake, and prepare to be disoriented. "Neighborhood #1" and especially "Black Mirror" are so gigantic they're almost deafening, but "The Suburbs"? What the fuck is this? Paul McCartney circa 1970's McCartney? There's nothing "epic" about this song in the slightest! Where's the anguish? Where's the Win Butler screams? Why aren't there any voices shouting "WHOAA-AOOO" in unison? Why, this isn't the Arcade Fire at all!!

This may be your reaction to most of The Suburbs. Upon first listen, at least. But eventually you will realize what a solid, well-constructed record this is, I promise you. As I was telling my buddy Adam last week, I like to think of it this way: you remember that constant feeling of dread Neon Bible evoked? That premonition that some horrible event was just around the corner, and there was nothing we could do but sit on our hands and let it swallow us whole? Well, if The Suburbs is any indication, it didn't happen. If it did, we didn't notice it. If Funeral was about loss and Neon Bible was about fear, then The Suburbs is about apathy.

That's not to say the music here is apathetic - quite the contrary - but The Suburbs evokes that uncanny feeling of boredom, sitting alone in your parents' basement waiting for something to happen. Sometimes something does; most of the time, nothing. As such, it might be the most relatable Aracde Fire record yet released, at least to me. I'm not going to nitpick lyrics here (because I hate doing that), but the key line of the record is right there at the beginning: "Sometimes I can't believe it / I'm moving past the feeling." They don't say what that "feeling" is, because they don't have to. You know what that feeling is, that one feeling you start to lose as you grow a bit older. It's almost a more defeated take on that line in "Wake Up" ("our bodies get bigger / but our hearts get torn up"), only written after that feeling is already gone.

But I won't dig too deep into these themes. What I appreciate most about The Suburbs is its willingness to ditch the gigantic choral sound of classic Arcade Fire and find power in a more down-to-earth approach. "Modern Man" is a pop-rock song, featuring one of Win Butler's most restrained vocal performances; "Month Of May" is some kind of twisted mock punk-rock thing; "Wasted Hours" is a casual, understated bit of folk; "City With No Children" is an handclap-laden slice of Caribbean joy. I can safely say that none of these songs sound like anything the Arcade Fire has done before. And even The Suburbs' big, emotional songs (which, contrary to everything else I have written here, there are plenty of) don't sound a whit like you would expect them to. Again, compare "Sprawl II" to "Wake Up" or "No Cars Go" and you will be surprised: not only is it just Regine singing, it almost sounds like a "Heart Of Glass" knockoff, or something! How could this possibly be the emotional centerpiece of the record?? But oh ho, it is. It works. Synths and all, it works! And unlike "In The Backseat," it manages to be danceable at the same time! Incredible!!

The Suburbs isn't going to reach through your throat and rip out your still beating heart like the last couple records did. But that's OK; it's not trying to. This is a new approach for the Arcade Fire. Some may complain that they sound "just like any other band" now, or something. Or maybe nobody will. Maybe I am arguing with a strawman. That is most likely the case. But either way, if you're not sure about this record on first listen, listen again! Your mind might change. I am just happy to know that this band I like so much is not content to rest on their laurels, and that they can be just as effective with normal pop-rock as they were with epic emotional orchestra-rock. That is comforting.

But what do you care? It's #1 on the Billboard charts, so chances are you've already given these bastards your money, or at least downloaded the thing illegally. If you enjoyed it, I have been honored to reinforce your opinion. If you didn't, then fuckk YOuuUUUUU

OK, readers, get ready to vote on what my next review will be!! Here are your choices:

1) Hanson's Shout It Out
2) Nick Carter's Now Or Never
3) Jordan Knight's Jordan Knight

Vote now! Vote! Vote! Vote now!!

Album Review: "Aphrodite" by Kylie Minogue

2010-07-26T18:10:00.003-04:00

ahhhhhhh

A memo to 90% of modern indie bands making feeble, "post-ironic" attempts at dance-pop: Kylie Minogue has you beat. By a long shot. This is everything pop music should be - over-the-top synths, insistent beats, cliched lyrics, and overwhelmingly catchy hooks. With Minogue there's no hint of the obnoxious self-awareness that poisons so many wannabe dance bands circa 2010. No painful falsettos, no "hilariously quirky" 8-bit sound effects, no pointlessly wordy lyrics - just simple, fun pop music. Minogue isn't putting on an act, here; this is what she does, what she's always done. And she does it well.

Kylie Minogue has been recording pop music for a solid two decades, and she is somehow recording music in her 40s that is substantially better than anything she did in her 20s. Which is kind of ridiculous, when you think about it; she's like a bizarro Madonna, or something. Before this year's Aphrodite, I had only (VERY recently) heard a couple of Minogue's other records: 2000's Light Years and 2001's Fever, both chock-full of fantastic millennial disco-pop that I felt guilty having missed out on for so many years (as a self-proclaimed connoisseur of early 2000s pop, this was especially hurtful). These records made two things abundantly clear: one, Kylie Minogue knows good pop music; two, Kylie Minogue cares about making her records consistent, which isn't even necessary. She could've just put out a bunch of great singles and filled the rest of her records with filler pap like every other teen pop act out there, but instead Light Years and Fever are so impressive front-to-back that even the lesser tracks feel like they belong.

Aphrodite continues this trend, but things are a little different. As great as Light Years and Fever were, they indulged in over-the-top campiness so thoroughly that they came perilously close to ironic jokiness (Light Years especially). I don't get that vibe from Aphrodite; it sounds more forceful, more committed. Not to mention that it's less of a disco record and more of a synth-pop one, which I guess is emblematic of the year it was recorded. Where Light Years came out during the "DISCO IS COOL AGAIN!" era, Aphrodite is here in the midst of the "80s DANCE IS COOL AGAIN!" era, so it treads dangerous ground. A cynic might accuse Minogue of playing catch-up with the likes of Lady GaGa and La Roux, and they may be right. But it doesn't matter, 'cause Aphrodite is better than both.

Oh ho, I could prattle on and on about the songs this record. I could! So I will. I love Aphrodite because it does not waste a second. The first word you hear is "DANCE," and it does not let up from there. "All The Lovers," "Get Outta My Way," "Put Your Hands Up (If You Feel Love)" - impossible not to dance to. You will dance to them. If you think you won't, you are wrong! "Everything Is Beautiful" you might not dance to, though, because it is a ballad. But you might anyway. "Better Than Today" is a great pop song. Even if a couple tracks during the second half aren't as good as the rest, the record ends with "Looking For An Angel" and "Can't Beat The Feeling," two of the best tracks here. It's 43 minutes long and nearly flawless. You can't ask for anything more from a pop album.

Honestly, Aphrodite is nothing new or shockingly original. It probably could have been recorded a decade ago. And nobody's saying Kylie Minogue is a fantastic vocalist or anything - I imagine her cutesy cooing is probably really annoying to some people - but she knows how to deliver these songs, and that's all that matters. I won't deny for a second that my intense love of this record isn't completely personal; Aphrodite embodies all of the great dance music I grew up with, delivered without apology or condescension. It gives off that irresistible feeling of the perfect all-night party, one that could never possibly exist. In layman's terms, I feel like this record was made just for me, and that is a feeling that cannot be taken for granted.

OK, I feel like I'm losing myself here, so how's this for a comparison: Aphrodite is like if the Backstreet Boys' last record didn't completely suck after the first four songs. Because I know all of you out there spent $19.99 on a copy of that record immediately upon its release, and as such know exactly what I'm talking about.

Right? Right! Wasn't "PDA" such a stupid fucking song?? I knowww.

Album Review: "Fables Of The Reconstruction" by R.E.M.

2010-07-21T17:36:00.003-04:00

RECONSTRUCTION

Oho, so here I am, writing about R.E.M. again. I have been listening to so SO much new music recently, and yet all I have to show for it is a review of an album - and a band - that I have loved since the beginning of time. Way to work outside of your comfort zone, Rose.

But I have an excuse! Today's record, 1985's Fables Of The Reconstruction, was just recently re-released - and, thankfully, it is getting a whole slew of long-deserved positive press. This is good news, considering that Fables tends to be the one early R.E.M. record that is continually ignored, even by diehard fans; not only was it sandwiched uncomfortably between Reckoning and Lifes Rich Pageant, but the band was not at all happy with the record by most accounts, and fans decided to follow their lead by not even bothering to hear it. Which is pretty dumb, when you think about it. Didn't XTC hate Skylarking for a while? Like, their most celebrated and beloved album? Yeah.

Bands are stupid.

Guess R.E.M. got over it, though, considering that they perform Fables tracks in concert all the time now. So we can all stop being so dumb. Fables holds a unique position in R.E.M.'s discography for a few reasons: one, it's the band's first concept album, with a set of songs exploring legends of the rural South; two, it's the last album of R.E.M.'s elliptical early years, before Lifes Rich Pageant turned them into an arena-rock band; and third, it's possibly their darkest album, the inverse of Reckoning's summertime-fun college rock. The latter point is probably the main reason so many people have trouble with Fables - it takes the least accessible traits of R.E.M.'s first two albums and magnifies them, pushing Michael Stipe's vocals even further back into the mix and drenching every track in moody guitar murk. Just a comparison of opening tracks makes these differences clear: where Murmur and Reckoning kicked off with radio-friendly college rock anthems, Fables opens with the clangy guitars of "Feeling Gravitys Pull," a song so unfriendly it sounds almost like it was designed to push the listener away.

This was my Fables dilemma, for a while. Lifes Rich Pageant has long been my favorite 80s R.E.M. record, and Fables is almost its exact opposite in every conceivable way; I just didn't know how to approach it. But Fables is a record that rewards (or, in some cases, requires) multiple listens, revealing itself to be possibly R.E.M.'s finest exercise in establishing mood and drawing the listener in. Individual tracks might not be as catchy or ingratiating as Murmur's and Reckoning's, but neither of those records could boast a sound as all-engulfing as "Maps And Legends"'s foreboding jangle, or "Auctioneer (Another Engine)"'s disarming chorus. If Reckoning felt like a lovely drive through the neighborhood, Fables feels like a dirt-road slog in the dead of night, where everything is obscured and nothing is certain.

But despite all that murkiness, this is still an early-period R.E.M. record through and through, full of gorgeous melodies, Peter Buck guitar jangling and Mike Mills/Bill Berry harmonies. Most fans probably already know "Driver 8," even if they haven't heard Fables - it's one of their best and most popular early singles - but there are so many worthy album tracks here it's ridiculous. My personal favorite, "Green Grow The Rushes," is one of Peter Buck's finest moments, a winding tapestry of folk-rock guitar beauty. It's got an environmental message, but one so thoroughly packaged in melodious songcraft that it never comes across as preachy or obnoxious - it's a should-be R.E.M. classic, is what I'm trying to say. The dramatic echo of tracks like "Life And How To Live It" and "Good Advices" give the record a palpable sense of energy (the latter featuring the immortal Stipe lyric "When you meet a stranger / look at his shoes / keep your money in your shoes"), while "Kohoutek" and "Old Man Kensey" revel in that creepy Old South vibe. And, of course, there are the two great tracks that are completely at odds with the mood of the record: the goofy horn-driven "Can't Get There From Here," the earliest inkling that R.E.M. actually had a sense of humor, and the understated country ballad of "Wendell Gee" that closes the album on an unusually friendly note.

Oh, also worth noting: if you love Mike Mills counterpoint harmony vocals, Fables is going to make you a very happy man. They are all over this fucking thing. "Can't Get There From Here" is maybe the best example, but "Maps And Legends" and "Wendell Gee" benefit greatly from his presence. God, I love that guy.

Man, there is no better time to get into Fables. It is an excellent portrait of a band at the peak of their powers, delivering one more moody masterpiece before diving headlong into the mainstream. I wouldn't recommend it for newbie R.E.M. fans - it's a little too uninviting - but dedicated listeners have no excuses. Give in.

To close things out, here's a fun live performance that answers the eternal question: "What if R.E.M.'s classic, outspoken anthem 'Fall On Me' sounded like a track from Chronic Town?" Here is your answer:

Album Review: "Broken Bells" by Broken Bells

2010-07-06T00:38:00.003-04:00

ring them belles

I have always been a Danger Mouse fan. I have never been a Shins fan. So when I heard that Danger Mouse recorded an album with the Shins guy, I was all like "ehhh I dunno, man" and decided not to listen to it.

But then I listened to it and realized that, hey, it's pretty good and I like it! Man, what a twist.

See now, I was embellishing a bit when I said "I have never been a Shins fan." What I meant to say was "I heard a few of their songs here and there, wasn't crazy about them, and made a concerted effort to not bother with any of their studio releases as a result. Also, fucking Garden State, jesus christ." Which, you know, is a completely unfair judgment. And now I'm thinking - if James Mercer is just as bearable on all those Shins albums as he is here, maybe I should give them a chance? Yes. Maybe I should.

I mean, I could say Danger Mouse is the only reason I like this record, but that wouldn't be right either. Mercer's voice is all over this thing, for one. I always pinned Mercer's vocals as too introverted and dull for my tastes ("New Slang," for one, which features one of the most bored vocal deliveries I have ever heard), but on Broken Bells he really sounds like he cares, which is a definite plus. He and Danger Mouse make for a surprisingly compatible duo: Mercer writes a bunch of pretty, mournful low-key tunes, and Danger Mouse bathes them in the atmospheric electronics that are his signature. The best thing I can say about Broken Bells is that it reminds me of my personal favorite DM production, Gorillaz' Demon Days; like that album, it indulges in a sweet electronic haze, but doesn't sound meandering or self-indulgent.

At least, for the most part. Some of the songs on Broken Bells' second half don't thrill me too much (a little too Shins-y, I guess?). But there are a lot of cool things going on here. My personal favorite track would have to be "Your Head Is On Fire," which somehow manages to evoke all the splendor of a Pet Sounds instrumental without being completely obnoxious, a nearly impossible feat nowadays. There's also the cool dark electronics of "Vaporize" and "October," the expansively pretty opener "The High Road," and "The Mall & Misery" which manages to beat Phoenix at their own sordid little pop-rock game.

I would also like to take this opportunity to apologize to Broken Bells' big hit single, "The Ghost Inside," which I was not fond of upon first listen but I now accept as a decently funky track. Here is my thing: I have a real problem with indie rock white dudes trying to be funky. I think it is a stupid, obnoxious trend that needs to end as soon as possible. Not that I don't think white dudes can be funky - if the Bee Gees can, who can't? - but in recent years it sounds to me like a mocking, self-important stab at relevance by a bunch of clueless white-boy Prince fetishists. It's silly, empty posturing. So when I first heard Mercer's over-the-top falsetto on "The Ghost Inside," my immediate reaction was to pause the track, rest my face in my hands and squeeze until I went numb. But soon I realized, hey! It's pretty much a Gorillaz song! And that falsetto, Damon Albarn does that a whole lot, doesn't he? So it would be pretty hypocritical of me to demonize "The Ghost Inside." It's good, and it's the only song on here featuring Mercer's funkmaster highvoice, so I can't get too mad at him.

So there you are. I like Broken Bells. You will, too, if you like Danger Mouse. And the Shins, I guess. I wouldn't know.

As for the "I hate funky indie rock dudes," that is a subject that will pop up again in the near future, I can assure you. Whether you like it or not.

Album Review: "The ArchAndroid" by Janelle Monae

2010-06-22T19:08:00.001-04:00

"MetPOPolis" is more like it! heyyyy

As a concerned citizen, I hope I'm not the first person to notice the curious similarities between Janelle Monae's new hit concept record The ArchAndroid and Styx's commercial magnum opus, 1983's Kilroy Was Here. Because they are blatant.

How so?? Well, just THINK about it:

1) Both take place in the future.
2) Both are about robots.
3) Both feature a song entitled "Cold War".

Surely, this is undeniable proof that Ms. Monae is a complete and utter ripoff artist and owes the 80s' finest rock vocalist, Mr. Dennis DeYoung, a hefty sum of dollars. How could so many venerable rock critics miss this one??

...ohoho. Jokes. No, really, The ArchAndroid is probably the furthest thing from a Styx album that I could imagine. Y'know - it doesn't suck.

Aha! Ha. No, that's also not fair. I have never sat down and listened to any Styx record, let alone Kilroy Was Here, and I most likely never will. But considering that Styx were a late 70s/early 80s progressive rock band, I can only assume they took their "robots in the future" storyline very seriously - a mistake that, thankfully, The ArchAndroid does not repeat. Like any decent concept album, the concept itself is just window dressing, an excuse to give a bunch of well-crafted pop/rock songs a sense of cohesion. Sure, Monae herself seems to have put a lot of thought into the "story" here (considering that she wants to turn it into a graphic novel and a Broadway show I guess that isn't too surprising), but the songs themselves are just so good that you don't need to follow along with the libretto to enjoy yourself. Thank God.

From the outset, you might mistake The ArchAndroid for a hip-hip/R&B/dance-pop record. Like I did! Monae is a protege of Puff Daddy and Outkast's Big Boi, after all, and the record's first single "Tightrope" is a funky, half-rapped modern dance track. But 'tis a ruse. Sure, a 70-minute modern R&B futuristic concept album would be a pretty cool idea on its own, but rap and R&B make up only a small part of Monae's anything-goes pop vision. Epic rock? Jazz? Disco? Goofy whiteboy indie-dance? Late 60s-esque psychadelic folk? Heavily-orchestrated movie soundtracks?? Man, it's all here, and it all works. Somehow.

In most ArchAndroid reviews I've read, comparisons to Michael Jackson and Prince abound, and, well... yeah, I guess that's fair. But she's never derivative of them. Sure, "Locked Inside" sounds like an Off The Wall outtake (right down to nicking "Rock With You"'s opening drumfill - you can't fool me, Janelle!!), but it's so gosh-darned well-executed that I can't help but enjoy it. As for Prince, well, just a cursory glance over the tracklisting will give that one away ("Neon Valley Street", "Wondaland," and "57821" come to mind). But it's also worth mentioning that the most obviously Prince-inspired track here, the gorgeously epic "Mushrooms & Roses," is easily my favorite song on the album, reaching the dizzily romantic heights of Purple Rain's best tracks.

Yes. And there are many other impressive songs here. "Tightrope" might not be representative of the rest of the record, but it's a great single anyway, featuring a welcome guest rap from Big Boi himself. Other highlights include the relentlessly catchy, surprisingly dramatic "Cold War" (featuring a fierce guitar solo in its closing moments); the completely adorable singalong folk-pop of "Oh, Maker"; and the manic, fast-paced bebop of "Come Alive (The War Of The Roses)," featuring maybe Monae's most intense vocal performance on the entire album. But still, that's only a sampling of what you're gonna find here.

Now I only mentioned it in passing before, but yes, this record is a full 70 minutes long. Anybody familiar with this blog - and with me - knows that I can't stand bloated, unnecessarily long records, even by bands that I love. But I give Monae a free pass here, for two reasons: one, these songs are so good that I never get tired of them (no small feat); two, Monae had the good sense to divide the record up into two distinct halves, dubbed "Suite II" and "Suite III". As such, you could think of The ArchAndroid as two records in one. By that criteria, "Suite II" is definitely the better record, containing most of The ArchAndroid's best tracks and ending with the aforementioned zenith of "Mushrooms & Roses"; "Suite III", while still excellent, slows things down a bit with longer, more atmospheric songs. Sure, it's got the warped-pop glory of "Wondaland" and the eerie dark folk of "57821," but it's also got my least favorite track on the record: "Make The Bus," featuring Of Montreal. It's not just a guest appearance - Kevin Barnes wrote it and sings lead vocal. It's pretty much an Of Montreal track, kinda-sorta featuring Janelle Monae. Of Montreal fans might like it, but man, I like Monae a lot more than Kevin Barnes; hearing her disappear in the middle of her own record is pretty jarring. It's like someone switched CDs on me, all the sudden! Yeesh!! (Also, it's kind of an annoying song.)

But hey. I'm nitpicking. Even if I'm not crazy about the Of Montreal track, the very fact that it's here should give you an impression of how far Monae is willing to reach. To put it bluntly, The ArchAndroid is a record that has made me very happy. It is a pop record in the very best sense of the term - catchy, well-produced, and playful, incorporating a whole bunch of styles without sounding silly or gimmicky. And it only came out, like, a month ago! Man! That's got me excited!!

My memo to Ms. Monae: please continue doing whatever the fuck you want to do for future releases. Just... don't let the bright lights of Broadway get to your head. We don't need another Starlight Express.

P.S.: The missing part here, "Suite I," was an EP Monae released a couple years before the album called Metropolis: The Chase Suite. It lacks the intoxicating pull of ArchAndroid, but it's still got some great tracks, and if you're really into the concept here it's essential listening.

Everything Is Broken: Bob Dylan In The 80s - The Playlist

2010-06-19T18:09:00.000-04:00

fatcheeks

So here it is! The playlist. The whole point of this endeavor.

Two things of note:
- Songs are in chronological order. I wanted to give the listener an impression of how Dylan's sound evolved over the decade, and I figured this was the best way to do it. As such, I kinda threw the songs together without worrying about "flow" or anything like that. It might be a little jarring.
- Some of the songs exemplify the album they're pulled from pretty well (Saved and Oh Mercy come to mind); some don't, at all. That wasn't really my intention, here. I just wanted to highlight the good songs.
- I wrote a lot more about these songs than I expected to. So. Sorry.

Well, that's all, I guess. So, without further adieu...

1) "Saved" (from Saved, 1980)
Saved feels like little more than a novelty record today, a trifling artifact of an awkward transitional period in Dylan's career. But hearing the album all the way through - specifically its gospel-laden title track, which kicks the record into high gear - it's easy to see why Dylan fans may have been angered, even devastated, at the time. For a songwriter like Dylan - who rejected ideology and dogma outright in the 60s, even including the left-wing folk stalwarts who he was apparently catering towards all along - to release a record so morally monochromatic, generic, and (literally) holier-than-thou just seemed wildly out of character, if not entirely offensive. And this isn't just in comparison to his 60's works; records like Blood On The Tracks and Desire (and even Street Legal, depending on your tastes), all released only a few years before Saved, found Dylan in full control of his faculties. Hell, even Slow Train Coming had that unusual, funky production that twisted the fire and brimstone just enough; Saved is just straight-ahead Christian moralism, unencumbered by any sort of artistic innovation. It's a tough pill to swallow.

Yes, Dylan had used religious - often Biblical - imagery in his music plenty of times before (most of John Wesley Harding, for one). But there's nothing allegorical about "Saved"; lyrically, it could have come straight from a Jack Chick tract: "By His grace I have been touched / By His word I have been healed / By His hand I have been delivered / By His spirit I Have been sealed / I've been saved!" Now, I'm not going to sit here and mock another man's religious beliefs - whatever was between Dylan and God at the time is none of my business, and I'm sure he believed fully in what he was singing - but really, it sounds like the guy had been brainwashed. Do those sound like Dylan lyrics to you??

At the same time, there is a reason (believe it or not!) that I chose Saved's title track to kick off this playlist - as upsetting as it may be, it is an effective piece of gospel-rock, one that sums up this entire period of his career quickly and effectively. Sure, it's kind of generic and doesn't sound like a Dylan song at all, but the guy is singing with some real conviction, and it's catchy and energetic enough. If you don't take Dylan too seriously and are willing to play along with this goofy Christian carnival, then I'm sure you'll have a good time.

Just... don't think about it too much. It'll only depress you.

2) "Pressing On" (from Saved, 1980)
My previous schpiel about "Saved" applies here, so I'll keep this brief. "Pressing On" is, really, just "Saved" slowed down - gospel singers, dogmatic lyrics, the works. What interests me most about "Pressing On," though, is its personal focus, something that's missing almost entirely from the rest of Saved; specifically, the lyrics in the first verse: "Many try to stop me, shake me up in my mind / Say, "Prove to me that He is Lord, show me a sign" / What kind of sign do they need when it all comes from within / When what's lost has been found, what's to come has already been?" It's not exactly a revelatory statement, but it's one of the few moments in Saved where Dylan addresses his detractors directly and answers them in the only way he knows how.

Not that he's very convincing. That one line, "it all comes from within," doesn't work in the context of Saved considering how preachy and obnoxious the whole affair is. However, for what it's worth, it ever-so-slightly foreshadows Dylan's more reasonable, confessional Christian songs near the end of Shot Of Love. Maybe I'm reading too far into this, but it's nice to hear Dylan recognize an outside voice once in a while, even if it is kind of petty.

But really, "Pressing On" is just an agreeable, well-made piece of gospel-rock, not unlike "Saved." Again, if you can ignore the obvious Christian themes, you might get a kick out of it. It's worth mentioning that the song popped up in I'm Not There, covered effectively by John Doe - and makes a lot more sense when it's not being sung by Dylan himself.

3) "In The Summertime" (from Shot Of Love, 1981)
Shot Of Love is one awkward, awkward piece of work. Its first side has to be one of the most scattershot affairs in Dylan's entire catalog, including the bizarre "Lenny Bruce" and maybe the worst Christian song he ever recorded, "Property Of Jesus." It's a miracle, then, that the second side finds Dylan exploring his newfound faith in a much more relatable and down-to-earth fashion, both lyrically and musically. Heck, he even found the the time to write some songs that weren't entirely Christian-themed, if you can believe that!!

"In The Summertime" isn't a major piece of work, but it is an adorable, sweet-natured tune in an album that is hurting for them. Badly. Just hearing Dylan taking a step back, playing a nice little song with his guitar and harmonica (the latter of which had been MIA for most of his Christian records) is a breath of fresh air. But it's also worth noting that, while lyrically it still deals with overtly Christian themes, they feel much less intrusive and didactic; in fact, if you weren't listening closely enough, it might almost sound like a love song (although the opening line "I was in your presence for an hour or so" makes it clear who the song is directed towards). It could be said, though, that the lyrics feel breezier because the song itself is breezier - unlike so many of Dylan's Christian songs, the music is good enough that its run-of-the-mill lyrics don't really matter.

It's also worth noting that, unlike so so many songs from Dylan's 80s records, "In The Summertime"'s production is shockingly understated. That's an accomplishment in and of itself.

4) "Every Grain Of Sand" (from Shot Of Love, 1981)
A lot has been written about Shot Of Love's closing track; it's been cited by many people as being THE hidden gem in Dylan's 80s catalog, and indeed one of his finest songs by any measure. Personally, I'm not sure if I would rate "Every Grain Of Sand" among Dylan's absolutely greatest works, but it is a beautiful song, and inarguably the most significant song of his Christian period.

While Dylan has gone on record claiming that he doesn't write "confessional songs," the opening lines of "Every Grain Of Sand" would seem to contradict this ("In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need..."); it's a song that takes the Christian imagery of his last three records and turns them directly inward, resulting in one of Dylan's most personal songs, and one of the few moments in his 80s catalog where he seems to have a distinct understanding of where his career - and his faith - have led him. The fact that Dylan chose "Every Grain Of Sand" as the last song of his last overtly Christian record can't be a coincidence - and if it is, it's a very convenient one.

I'm not going to say that the song is Dylan apologizing for his Christian period; I doubt he really gave a shit what anybody else thought about him. But it still finds him wracked with doubt over his faith and self-worth (the lines "There's a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere / toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair" are so prescient they're almost frightening). And while, in usual Dylan fashion, he tries not to dwell on the past ("Don't have the inclination to look back on any mistake / Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break"), he still finds himself in dire straits, attempting to reach out to a God that doesn't always hear him ("I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea / sometimes I turn, there's someone there, other time it's only me"). But despite all this doubt, Dylan's faith deepens at the end of each verse ("Then onward in my journey I come to understand / That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand").

Accompanied by a lovely chiming guitar figure and some tasteful backup vocals, Dylan's lyrics are accentuated well, and despite clocking in at over 6 minutes the song never wears out its welcome. Really, the fact that such an honest, down-to-earth Christian song shares album space with "Property of Jesus" is kind of astonishing - they're almost diametrically opposed. "Every Grain Of Sand" is an important moment of empathy, finally giving us a clear understanding of why Dylan chose the path he did without a trace of condescension, something that was a long time coming. And - thankfully - it finds Dylan writing heartfelt and honest lyrics, rather than just spouting out dull Born Again platitudes. Nice to hear.

5) "Jokerman" (from Infidels, 1983)
As Infidels's opening track, "Jokerman" is a fine example of that record's (relatively) significant increase in quality over its immediate predecessors. It's his first 80s studio LP that sounds like genuine consideration was put into making the entire thing listenable, which is more than you can say for most of his Christian period. Stacked up against his 60s/70s classics, it's a minor entry in his catalog, but works fine on its own terms; Mark Knopfler's production is restrained and laid-back, Dylan's vocals and harmonica work are once again center-stage, and lyrically he's made good on the promise of "Every Grain of Sand."

"Jokerman" exemplifies all these qualities admirably; it's well-crafted, relaxing, and utilizes a reggae rhythm without sounding gimmicky. While Dylan's attempts to incorporate reggae into his sound before Infidels were, well, questionable at best (the less said about Budokan's reggae-ified "Don't Think Twice," the better), "Jokerman" manages to make it feel like a natural extension of Dylan's sound. It's an admirable accomplishment, and a bold experiment on Dylan's part in the middle of a decade with very few of them.

Lyrically, Dylan fleshes out some of "Every Grain Of Sand"'s religious imagery, but leavens that song's darker themes with a sense of humor sorely missing from his last few records (my favorite line: "You’re going to Sodom and Gomorrah / But what do you care? / Ain’t nobody there would want to marry your sister!"); but even then, he finds time to recognize the Bible ("Well, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy / The law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers") and a little doom and gloom ("Fools rush in where angels fear to tread / Both of their futures, so full of dread..."). But like Dylan's best work, it feels elliptical and playful, rather than bland and preachy.

"Jokerman" is a fine song, but I have to admit some bias - part of me included it here solely based on Dylan's performance of the song on Letterman, roughly a year after Infidels was released. Armed with members of the LA-based Chicano punk band the Plugz, Dylan performed an entirely different rendition of the song, replacing its gradual reggae vibes with immediate, catchy pop-rock. It marks perhaps the only moment in the 80s where Dylan took a stab at a modern sound without looking like a sad old man; rather, he sounds invigorated and confident, managing to appear in control even when he screws up the harmonica solo at the end of the song. (Sadly, I can't find the performance online anywhere - the Youtube clip I linked to in my Real Live review was taken down shortly afterwards - but if you can find it anywhere, you've really gotta see it.)

Dylan's decision to work with a group of twenty-something punk musicians was inspired, and gives me ample room to speculate with fanboy glee - I mean, jeez, if he had re-recorded the entirety of Infidels with these guys, we might've had a classic on our hands! - but it wouldn't last for long. The band's Letterman performance would be their last; Dylan would break them up in favor of a group of faceless classic rock session men, and his subsequent tour would result in the entirely bland Real Live. Dylan's brief moment of inspiration would only further highlight his ineptitude at this point in his career; maybe he somehow considered the Letterman performance a failure, or maybe he felt his younger band was incompatible with his image, I don't know. But after the debacle of his early 80s period, a dash of young blood is exactly what he needed to get his career back on track, and it's a shame he would toss it aside so quickly. He just didn't know a good thing when he saw it.

I'm sorry. This is supposed to be about "Jokerman," right? "Jokerman"'s fine. Let's move on.

(Oh, something worth mentioning: I decided not to include a similar track from Infidels, "License To Kill," in this playlist simply because its Letterman rendition is so much better than the studio version it's almost embarrassing.)

6) "Don't Fall Apart On Me Tonight" (from Infidels, 1983)
Another cute song. I'm sorry.

Looking over this playlist, I realized something pretty quickly - in terms of sonic diversity, it is sorely lacking. Way, way too many of the songs I've picked are sweet-natured, unassuming little ditties - besides "Every Grain Of Sand" and a few tracks coming up later, I feel like I haven't picked anything of serious weight, and for this I apologize.

Then again, I don't feel like blaming myself. So I won't! See, most of the more energetic, "rockin'" songs in Dylan's 80s catalog are pathetic and silly, and he seemed to deliberately avoid songs with a darker edge. Take, for example, the Infidels outtake "Blind Willie McTell" - one of his most foreboding, stripped-down tracks of his 80s period, it would have definitely made this list had Dylan not inexplicably removed it from Infidels's tracklisting shortly before its release. To be fair, I could have also gone with "I and I" instead of this one, but that song never really... compelled me.

So we have "Don't Fall Apart On Me Tonight," the closing track to Infidels and maybe its sweetest track. I think I like it just because it reminds me of Tom Petty (actually, a lot of Dylan's 80s period feels like an attempt to appropriate the Heartbreakers' feel-good retro-rock, with much worse results). There's a lot of harmonica, it's not as sexist as "Sweetheart Like You," and, umm. I like it?

Yeah. I like it. And you'll like it too, honest.

God, I wish I could just write about fucking "Blind Willie McTell." But there are RULES. Damnable RULES.

7) "Tight Connection To My Heart (Has Anybody Seen My Love?)" (from Empire Burlesque, 1985)
I love this stupid fucking song. I do! Why, why, I do not know.

"Tight Connection To My Heart" is easily Dylan's most successful attempt at writing a pure pop song; sure, "Like A Rolling Stone" hit #2 on the charts, but could anybody call it a pop song without looking a little silly? Of course not. "Connection," on the other hand, fulfills every requirement: it's deliberately lightweight, employs a number of modern-at-the-time production tricks, and features a chorus so naggingly catchy that it practically burrows itself into your brain. If none of this sounds like a typical Dylan song to you, you'd be right - in fact, it would be hard to pin "Connection" as a Dylan song at all if he didn't actually sing on the track. Heck, the main vocal hook of the song isn't even sung by him; his backup singers take care of that, and he just kinda talk-sings over it. Which I guess isn't surprising.

Still, despite its lack of personality - and its relative datedness - "Tight Connection To My Heart" is too ingratiating for me to resist. For one, there is no way I can't like that "I-don't-know! Has aany-boody seen my looove?" vocal hook; secondly, I'm happy to hear Mr. Dylan singing lyrics that make him sound like a complete asshole, something he hasn't done much of since the 60s. Opening lines: "Well, I had to move fast / And I couldn't with you around my neck / I said I'd send for you and I did / What did you expect?" It's a little deceptive, in a way; Dylan's lyrics are so dickish and condescending, but the song itself is so gosh-darn adorable that he somehow comes across as goofy rather than just plain mean. "Tight Connection" could be about the Kent State shootings and still sound cute.

But why even bother analyzing the lyrics to a song like this? Sure, it's Dylan, but it's "Tight Connection To My Heart" Dylan. It's immaterial. There's a reference to "Madame Butterfly" in there somewhere, and something about a guy with a powder blue wig. I don't know. It's a pop song!

If you wanna get a real idea of where Dylan was at around the time this song was released, check out its music video. Not only is it practically as adorable as the song itself, it also manages to say more about Dylan in the 80s than I ever could. (God, look at him try to lipsynch! Poor guy.)

8) "Dark Eyes" (from Empire Burlesque, 1985)
Empire Burlesque doesn't deserve "Dark Eyes." Seriously. One of the loveliest acoustic songs in his entire catalog, tacked onto the end of one of his schlockiest albums as if it were an afterthought. For shaaame.

...although, from what I've heard, "Dark Eyes" was an afterthought. It was the last song recorded for Empire Burlesque, recorded live to tape by Dylan with only guitar and harmonica, and placed at the very end of the album without a single edit. And he'd only written it a few days before recording! If this is indeed true, I imagine Dylan could have written/recorded a dozen more songs in a similar fashion and the resulting record would have been a thousand times better than anything on the horrendously overproduced Empire Burlesque. "Dark Eyes" is ample proof that Dylan's lousy 80s records were less about Dylan losing his gifts as a songwriter, and more about him forgetting how to use those gifts.

"Dark Eyes", despite its endearing melody, is really a song about resignation - perhaps one of his earliest songs about settling into middle-age, stepping aside and letting the young folk go about their business. Acting as a casual observer, he describes a series of people that feel more like literary characters than real human beings ("Oh, the gentlemen are talking and the midnight moon is on the riverside"; "Oh, the French girl, she’s in paradise and a drunken man is at the wheel"); but after the beginning of each verse, these people are politely dismissed, as Dylan can't even relate to them ("I live in another world / where life and death are memorized"). Most tellingly, there's a verse where Dylan rejects a cynical viewpoint ("They tell me revenge is sweet / and from where they stand, I’m sure it is / But I feel nothing for their game / where beauty goes unrecognized"); to me, it almost sounds like a rejection of his snarkier 60s persona and an acceptance of his old age, a graceful bow-out. If you want to stretch things a little bit, you could say "Dark Eyes" is one of the Dylan earliest "old man" songs.

But maybe that's a bit much. "Dark Eyes" is really just a sweet little burst of joy after the unconscionable slog that is Empire Burlesque. Sounds better in the context of the record, I guess, but it's just as lovely on its own.

9) "Brownsville Girl" (from Knocked Out Loaded, 1986)
I'll be honest with you here - if it were up to me, Knocked Out Loaded wouldn't have a single entry on this list. It is such a consistently unpleasant experience that I don't want to recognize it, to be reminded of it, in any way. But rules are rules - at least one track from each album, that's what Benzo said - so my hands are tied, here.

So the prize goes to "Brownsville Girl," a bizarre one-off collaboration between Dylan and Sam Shepherd. A lot of people consider it to be Knocked Out Loaded's sole redeeming factor, and I assume it must be (I don't know what else would qualify). But that could just be the Stockholm Syndrome talking; as it stands, it's kind of a funny, goofy tale, but it's also just as ridiculously overproduced as anything else on Loaded. Oh, and it's also eleven fucking minutes long. That, alone, makes me kind of hate it - mostly because it makes this playlist about eleven minutes longer than it needs to be. It's unseemly.

There are some funny lines but I can't say I remember them? You might like it more than I do. It's the worst song on this list, but it's not bad.

I just... don't want to talk about it.

10) "Death Is Not The End" (from Down In The Groove, 1988)
I like this song a whole lot, but I feel like Dylan might have recorded it at the wrong time. If he had kept it in the vaults 'till the late 90s, maybe, he could have sang it with his newfound low growl, which would've given it a lot more soul and grit. But sadly, this is the late 80s we're talking about, the dying days of Dylan's high-pitched whine; as such, "Death Is Not The End" is a little more awkward than it should be.

Having said that, it's still an effective song. A lot of its power comes from its spare, somewhat haunting production; for a song that's supposed to be comforting and encouraging, "Death Is Not The End" brings to mind a funeral procession, with its hushed vocals and mournful "no, no!" chants in the middle of each chorus. I like to think of the song from the perspective of somebody trying to cheer up a dying friend or family member - telling them what they know they want to hear, but struggling to believe their own words. Its lyrics are simple enough that they almost sound like they're being sung to a child ("When you're sad and when you're lonely / And you haven't got a friend / Just remember that death is not the end"), making it even more unsettling.

But, let's get real here, there's only two things you need to know about this song:
1) R&B vocal group Full Force sing backup vocals. They would go on to write this song.
2) Nick Cave covered it! Neat.

11) "Silvio" (from Down In The Groove, 1988)
Here's another song that, for whatever reason, I don't have much to say about. But it's a fun one! Probably the track that best exemplifies Down In The Groove, sans the mediocrity - it's silly, energetic, and over with in three minutes. It displays the best of Groove's stripped-down, rootsy production, and somehow manages to use backup vocalists that enhance the song rather than overstuff it.

I guess it's mostly notable for being one of Dylan's earliest collaborations with Grateful Dead lyricist Rob Hunter (the other one here, "The Ugliest Girl In the World," is pretty OK but nowhere near as good). But "Silvio" jumps in and out of my consciousness so quickly that I've never even bothered to stop and pay attention to its lyrics; looking back, there's some entertaining lines here ("Since ev'ry pleasure's got an edge of pain / Pay for your ticket and don't complain" is a favorite) and some that playfully acknowledge his career ("Ain't complaining about what I got / Seen better times, but who has not?"), but overall "Silvio" isn't about its lyrical content. Most of its appeal comes from Dylan's biting vocals, brisk guitarwork, and the "woo woo!" and "uh huh!"s coming from his backup singers.

Unlike most of the other "cute" songs I've covered here, "Silvio" is almost deliberately lightweight, a three-minute serotonin jolt. Nothing more, nothing less. And after a track like "Brownsville Girl," that's really what we need, isn't it??

12) "Where Teardrops Fall" (from Oh Mercy, 1989)
Of all of Dylan's 80s works, Oh Mercy is the clear outlier, the first real foreshadowing of his eventual resurgence in the 90s and 2000s. And while it has its share of weighty, personal songs - among Dylan's most personal since "Every Grain Of Sand" - there's also "Where Teardrops Fall," a romantic gem that exemplifies all of Oh Mercy's considerable charms in only two and a half minutes.

A couple things I love about this song: for one, Dylan's finally discovered his "old man" voice, that lower-register bluesman's growl that has to be one of my personal favorite Dylan voices. It's just so expressive and characteristic - gruff and foreboding when it needs to be, but also very warm and soulful. Sure, it's not fully developed yet here (and wouldn't be until '97's Time Out Of Mind), but it still gives "Where Teardrops Fall" a level of affability it wouldn't have had otherwise.

There's also that lovely guitar line, and Daniel Laonis's appropriately hazy production, making the whole song feel like a sweet dream. Melodically, I don't doubt that a song like this would fit right in on a record like Love And Theft (for the record, one of my absolute favorite Dylan albums of any era); it's got that same 40s-50s classic pop feel to it. Good, good feelings.

Not unlike "Silvio," "Where Teardrops Fall" is over with so quickly that its lyrical content is almost immaterial. If you think I've just been making excuses so I don't have to write another couple paragraphs deciphering these lyrics, well jeez, you'd be wrong! They mean nothing!! Leave me alone.

13) "Most Of The Time" (from Oh Mercy, 1989)
I could be wrong, but I'm guessing that this track was responsible for most of Oh Mercy's critical comparisons to Blood On The Tracks upon it's release - it is a breakup song, after all, so comparing it to one of the most celebrated breakup albums of all time only seems natural. Of course, that comparison doesn't really hold water - they're two very, very different records - but "Most Of The Time" remains one of Dylan's best songs about lost love, and could be Oh Mercy's most notable achievement.

Calling "Most Of The Time" a breakup song might be a little to broad; it's more a song about repressing emotion. Dylan takes the role of man who's been separated from his lover for what seems like a long time, to the point where he doesn't even remember her - or, at least, that's what he tries to convince himself. I like how the structure of the lyrics mirror Dylan's feelings; he spends most of each verse maintaining his resilience in the face of an unnamed problem ("Most of the time / I'm clear focused all around / Most of the time / I can keep both feet on the ground"), only slipping in a reference to "her" in the last line ("I can survive and I can endure / And I don't even think about her"). The denial and self-delusion is palpable, here, which gives the song an extra bite; Dylan is obviously lying to himself, and he knows it. Unlike Blood On The Tracks's mournful, direct approach, "Most Of The Time" finds Dylan as an older man trying to "hide from the feelings that are buried inside" by pretending he never felt them in the first place. It's a different perspective, but one that's just as relatable - and heartbreaking - as anything he's ever recorded.

"Most Of The Time" also stands as one of the best marriages of Dylan's songwriting and Laonis's production; he envelops the song in a warm, comforting soundscape, one that complements the song's sense of loneliness very well. It gives off that unmistakable feeling of waking up early in the morning, making a pot of coffee and letting stray memories drift through your mind as you stare out the window; that weird, uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability. It could be argued that other songs on Oh Mercy are kind of overloaded with standard Laonis 80s production tricks, but there's no denying that it works wonders here.

Good song. Perfect way to end the playlist. And it was in "High Fidelity," too, so I guess it's accrued some film cred. And why not?

OTHER TRACKS FROM DYLAN'S 80S RECORDS THAT ARE PRETTY OKAY, BUT COULD NOT FIT ON THIS LIST:

Saved: "Covenant Woman," "Solid Rock"
Shot Of Love: "The Groom's Still Waiting At The Altar"
Infidels: "License To Kill," "I And I"
Empire Burlesque: ...nothing
Knocked Out Loaded: ...still nothing'
Down In The Groove: "Shenandoah"
Oh Mercy: "Ring Them Bells," "Man In The Long Black Coat"

NON-ALBUM TRACKS FROM DYLAN'S 80S PERIOD THAT YOU SHOULD REALLY CHECK OUT IF YOU FEEL SO INCLINED:

- "Blind Willie McTell," an excellent outtake that should have been on Infidels, and the original rockin' version of "When The Night Comes Fallin' From The Sky" that is about a thousand times better than the disco-rock version on Empire Burlesque (and features memebers of the E Street Band! yowza!!). Both can be found on The Bootleg Series Vol. 3.

- A reinterpreted live version of "Tangled Up In Blue," from Real Live. Lyrics are shuffled around a whole bunch. Worth it, if you like the song (and you should).

- Dylan's Letterman performance, the whole thing. FIND IT YOURSELF 'CAUSE I SURE CAN'T.

Well, that about wraps things up. I'll finish this atypically long blog post with a simple question: does ANYBODY know a good way to compile an online playlist, so that I can post it here for easy listening? I wanted to use 8tracks but they only allow you two songs by the same artist. Ugh!! What good is a playlist like this if you can't hear the songs? Man.

Either way, I have to thank Mr. Ben Vigeant for encouraging me to take this on. It's been such a fun exercise for me, and any excuse to further explore and understand one of my favorite musicians is a good one in my book. Having said that, I am completely sick of writing about Bob Dylan and am excited to start writing about any other band in the near future. Yes, yes.

Everything Is Broken: Bob Dylan in the 80's, Part 1

2010-06-03T17:52:00.006-04:00

WHO COULD STAY MAD AT THAT FACE.

Oh my! What an adventure the past few weeks have been. In case you have not been following the blog at all in that time period (and who could blame you), I recently decided to take up a long-standing challenge from blogfriend Ben Vigeant to listen through every single Bob Dylan studio album released in the 1980s and somehow, by the grace of God, compile a "Best Of" playlist, taking at least one track from each album. This, in essence, was one of my favorite blog requests from anybody, for two distinct reasons: one, I love Bob Dylan and always have, and relish in the opportunity to dig deeper into his eccentricities; and two, I love rooting for the underdog, and how many records out there have taken the nearly-unanimous critical lashing that Dylan's 80s records have - let alone record released by an artist of Dylan's considerable stature?

Then again, to be fair, the conservative Reagan years were not kind to many 60s rock icons: besides starting ominously with John Lennon's murder, Paul McCartney and George Harrison's solo careers faded into irrelevancy, the Stones released a record with this fucking album cover while on the verge of a breakup, and even Neil Young - known for surviving the punk era with fearless tenacity - succumbed to 80s fever with Trans and didn't recover 'till the decade was over. For 60s icons, the cold-blooded 80s represented a painful, awkward middle age, where they watched their legacies fade away in the shadow of new wave and dance-pop. And no 60s artist represented that generational gap better than Bob Dylan, for better or for worse.

But Dylan's 80s period, to me, always felt a little different than everyone else's. The Beatles, specifically George, just didn't seem to give a shit about pop music anymore (funny, considering Harrison's inexplicable #1 hit in 1988); the Stones were still riding high from the success of "Start Me Up," and almost immediately dovetailed; and Young, in constant dispute with Geffen Records, seemed to make intentionally shitty albums out of spite. Dylan's failures, however, feel a little more personal; by the time 1980's Saved was released, he had already undergone a painful divorce, a critically loathed Vegas-esque 1978 tour, and a baffling conversion to Christianity. The critical and commercial goodwill afforded by Blood On The Tracks and the Rolling Thunder Revue had long since faded, and Dylan - once viewed as a keen, modern social observer - now just looked like a kooky old man who had no idea what he was doing. Listening through Dylan's 80s records, you get the impression that he just didn't have a sure hand in the creation of his own records, often writing songs that were horribly at odds with the sound of the record itself (especially the shlocky 80s production that popped up in his mid-80s work). This, not to mention a string of unusual and often baffling collaborations (Sam Shepherd? Full Force? The Grateful Dead??) confirm that perhaps he had lost faith in his own songwriting skills. But despite his lingering cultural confusion and songwriting troubles, the man just kept making records, transforming a series of mediocre albums into bizarre chronicle of one of the 60's finest songwriters undergoing a state of incalculable writer's block. It gives them a sense of nobility and tragedy lacking in many similar artists' 80s failures.

There is no way I can hate these records. Even the worst of them. I just love Dylan too much, and he is all over this music, personality-wise - even the worst Bob Dylan record you can think of is still a Bob Dylan record, after all. He's there, he's singing, he's wheezing, and ultimately he's revealing another goofy facet of his personality that maybe you've never heard before. For me, it's worth it, especially considering Dylan's eventual comeback with 1997's Time Out Of Mind; I haven't heard Dylan's 90s records yet, but I am looking forward to it. In that regard, you could even think of Dylan's 80s period as the story of a down-and-out former champion, fighting for what was once his and, years later, finally winning back his title - isn't that exciting??

Well, to me it is.

So before we get to the actual "Best Of" playlist itself - which will come in the second part of this post, coming shortly after this one - I feel that a brief review of each record is in order. Because, really, as awful as some of these albums are, a lot of them are genuinely worth hearing if you are a Dylan fan. And some, you know, aren't. At all.

Well! Either way! Let's get the ball rolling!!

Saved (1980)
Absolutely the most Christian album this man ever recorded. It's not all bad. Doesn't have any of the artful weirdness of Slow Train Coming - no funky "Gotta Serve Somebody"s to be found here - but Dylan's flirtations with gospel are surprisingly enjoyable. You might remember "Pressing On" from Christian Bale's appearance in I'm Not There - it's a pretty effective song! Sadly, it's still a painfully samey, preachy record. I can't imagine it converting anybody. Not sure if that was really the point, but still.

Shot Of Love (1981)
I am so mixed about this one. The first side is arguably even more annoying and slipshod than the entirety of Saved, including the weirdest and dumbest tribute song he ever recorded, "Lenny Bruce". The second half has some serious flashes of brilliance, though, especially the last few tracks. Finally Dylan drops the fire-and-brimstone attitude and starts writing songs that, while obviously Christian-themed, are more personal, universal, and empathetic (including the well-regarded "Every Grain Of Sand") than anything else he recorded at time. And he finally brings back that fucking harmonica.

Infidels (1983)
Pretty good! Maybe not great, but a definite improvement. Dire Straitsman Mark Knopfler produces, and he gives the record a more subtle, laid-back, reggae-tinged sort of feel. It works! "Jokerman," "License To Kill," "I And I," "Don't Fall Apart On Me Tonight," and even the blatantly sexist "Sweetheart Like You" - good songs all. Might not hold your attention all the way through, I understand that. But a Bob Dylan 80s record that isn't drenched with awful schlocky production is rare enough to warrant some merit.

Empire Burlesque (1985)
Begins and ends with two of the most adorable, lovable songs in the man's oeuvre; everything in the middle is gross, gross, gross. Horrible 80s production tricks, corny female backup vocalists, synth horns, etc. etc. There could be some salvagable songs here (besides the ones already mentioned), but GOD that PRODUCTION - I just can't stand it!! So many critics champion this one, even today. No idea why. Rob Christgau called "Clean Cut Kid" "the toughest Vietnam-vet song yet." He's a foolish fool.

Knocked Out Loaded (1986)
A tough one to listen to. Painful. I would say this is his worst record. It's just a confused, sad, horribly recorded piece of work. "They Killed Him" is embarrassing. There's a song with the Heartbreakers that should really be a lot better than it is. A lot of people love the Sam Shepherd collaboration "Brownsville Girl," and I kind of like it too, but it's not NEARLY enough to save the record (and definitely not as good as Empire Burlesque's highlights). Watch out for this one - all the critical hate is totally deserved.

Down In The Groove (1988)
I don't think it's that bad! Really!! It's roots-rock. Production is much cleaner and more direct than the last two records, the covers are kind of fun in a goofy way, and a handful of songs here are genuinely good. Great, even. The tracks he co-wrote with Rob Hunter are surprisingly funny, and "Silvio" is wonderful. The "Shenandoah" cover feels like a precursor to his early 90s folk covers albums, maybe? I haven't heard them yet, so I can't say. I think I am a little more defensive of this one 'cause so many critics consider it to be his absolute worst studio record, but god, there's no WAY that's true. Especially not with Knocked Out Loaded sitting right there! Come on!! Then again, it's pretty poorly paced and has a lot of mediocre tracks, but it's at least worth a listen.

Oh Mercy (1989)
His first Dan Laonis-produced record, considered a comeback after a tough decade. I like it! It's kind of slow, and some of the songs don't go anywhere, but Dylan sounds like he's finally settling into old age. In an appealing way! People complain about Laonis's hazy, commercial production, but for the love of God - have those people heard Empire Burlesque?? I think Laonis's atmospheric work here compliments Dylan's songs well enough. Pleasing to the ear. "Most Of The Time" was in High Fidelity for good reason. It's pretty! If you're gonna spend your time/money on a Dylan 80s record, it might as well be this one.

So there. You. Go. I know I didn't dig very deep with these reviews, but for good reason; I'm planning on doing that with the "best of" playlist. Then I can decipher some lyrics and talk about where Dylan's head was at the time and all that. Man, that'll be a good time!!

Album Review: "Dylan & The Dead" by Bob Dylan

2010-05-25T16:38:00.004-04:00

this picture is a LOT MORE INTERESTING than the actual record.

The idea of sitting through a record like Dylan & The Dead more than once is a painful one. I am not going to lie to you. The moment I started the record up a second time, I felt uncomfortable and dizzy and unable to function. By the time I hit the 9-minute "Joey" I had to turn it off, for fear of my own well-being. I'm surprised I managed to get that far.

Now, don't get me wrong. Dylan & The Dead is not a terrible record, at least not nearly as bad as you have heard. I am sure that if you are a diehard Deadhead then it may be essential listening for you, and if you love Dylan just enough it may be worth a listen. In fact, upon first listen, I had trouble figuring out where all the hate was coming from. It's not a particularly good live record, to be sure - Dylan doesn't sound particularly "into" anything he's singing, and the Dead sleepwalk their way through some okay-but-not-that-interesting arrangements - but it's hardly unlistenable. Reports of it being "the worst record released by Dylan AND the Dead" felt a little unwarranted.

But, of course, then I tried to listen to it a second time. Man, it is a slog. It's worse than just being terrible - it's boring. Boring boring boring. Dull as dishwater. Why are you listening to this again again. Why put yourself through this?? These were my thoughts, at the time. I was sweating.

A track from Real Live might sneak its way into my eventual Dylan 80s playlist. But not Dylan & The Dead. I can't even remember which songs they performed! Jeez!! I realize maybe it is not very fair for me to review a record after only listening to it one-and-a-half times, but trust me, listen to the record for yourself and you will understand.

Or don't! Don't. You don't have to understand. It's not worth it.

Here is one thing I will say in Dylan & The Dead's favor: there are no Dead songs. I know very little about the Grateful Dead and I do not care to know much about them. When I listen to a Bob Dylan live record, I want there to be Bob Dylan songs and Bob Dylan songs only, and this is what Dylan & The Dead provides for me (dull, overly-long jam-band versions of Dylan songs, but Dylan songs nonetheless). Compare this to, say, Before The Flood, which was pretty much half a Band live album. Jeez! Not that I hate the Band or anything, just that I would have preferred more Dylan songs. I don't need to hear "The Weight" again. But that's just me.

Anyway. I can't hate this record; it is a non-entity, essentially. At least it's not as bad as Knocked Out Loaded.

But that I will get to later! Enough preview posts! The Dylan 80s revue will begin with my next post, whenever that will be. Hopefully soon. In the meantime, feel free to slowly forget about this record's existence so that it has been entirely removed from your mind by the time my next post rolls around. I know I will be!!

P.S.: It is worth noting that on-again-off-again Dead lyricist Robert Hunter has co-written a few songs with Dylan that are not horrible, including a few Down in the Groove tracks and the entirety of last year's Together Through Life. So, uhh, yeah.

Album Review: "Real Live" by Bob Dylan

2010-05-17T19:22:00.003-04:00

the wrinklesss

It's another Bob Dylan live album. Nothing more, nothing less.

I realize that maybe it's pointless to review a record like Real Live when I haven't even covered Dylan's 80's studio records yet. There's no context! Why would you care??

Well, okay. Here is a little context. Real Live covers bits of Dylan's '84 tour, sandwiched between '83's Infidels and '85's Empire Burlesque. The former is a pretty decent record, the latter I haven't even heard yet. His backing band consisted of a smattering of FM rock icons (Mick Taylor on guitar, ex-Face Ian McLagan on the keys, Carlos Santana on guitar here and there), and the disc itself was produced by Glyn Johns if that means anything to you.

The negatives: Dylan sounds pretty haggard here. A little more sprightly than At Budokan, but nowhere near his tour-de-force Rolling Thunder performances. But what would you expect? The guy was over 40 at this point. This record captures him in an awkward transitional phase, between his triumphant mid-70's comeback and his sudden re-emergence in the late 90's, when his new-found "old man wheeze" suddenly became an asset. Here, it just sounds sad.

Also, despite the talent present in Dylan's band, almost every Highway 61 song here sounds incredibly dopey. Lame, "rockin'" versions of each one. Too professional. No heart. Why does "Highway 61 Revisited" sound like T. Rex, for God's sake? Who thought that was a good idea??* And the electrified "Masters of War" robs it of all its haunting allure. Egh.

The positives: "Tangled Up In Blue" is phenomenal. And it's got new lyrics! Hey!! That should warrant an illegal download for this thing, at the very least. It's not the best version of the song by a longshot, but it is a lovely experience, and the new third-person lyrics will keep you hooked. Just as good as the Rolling Thunder version, I would say.

The other solo acoustic songs here are good, as well. "It Ain't Me, Babe" and "Girl From North Country" aren't anything new, but they are nice. Dylan sounds a lot better here than on the electric songs, if you can believe that. Also, the two Infidels songs here - "License To Kill" and "I And I" - sound pretty good, and work better with this band than the Highway 61 tracks.

Overall: a decent experience, but not essential. Only 52 minutes long, so at least it's over with quicker than Budokan (which clocked in at 99 ungodly minutes). Check out "Tangled Up In Blue" if you can find it.

Aww, Bob. If only you had stuck with that band of young L.A. punks you cobbled together for that one time you were on Letterman! That would have been so great!!

I mean, come ON.

Come ONNNNNNN

...more on that for the big 80's post, I guess. It's coming!! Mark your calendars. If you can predict the date, that is.

* Nothing against T.Rex. Electric Warrior, that was a good one.

Bob Dylan Mini-Reviews: "Bootleg Series 5: Rolling Thunder Revue" and "At Budokan"

2010-05-04T17:05:00.000-04:00

dylanfaces

So over the past couple weeks it has been a pretty hardcore "Bob Dylan Time" over at the Sean Rose Camp. This can be blamed solely on one Benjamin Vigeant, who not too long ago came to me with a beguiling, yet wonderful request: a "Best Of" playlist picked from Dylan's 80's records, an era long considered to be the absolute nadir of the man's recording career. I loved the idea of this so much that I decided to put any requested reviews on hold for the time being (sorry bros) and seek out not only all seven of his 80's records, but every Dylan record I had ignored before the 80's, going back as far as 1962's Bob Dylan. Considering that Dylan has long been one of my favorite artists, for a multitude of reasons, it has (at least so far) been a thoroughly entertaining and revealing musical trip.

The trouble is, I feel like I'm bound to be disappointed. As it is now, I am standing on the precipice of Dylan's notorious Christian period, considered by many to be the beginning of a serious artistic decline. It worries me a bit, especially considering how much I've enjoyed pretty much his entire 70's output (including lesser-loved gems like Street Legal and Planet Waves). But maybe it shouldn't worry me TOO much - Dylan is Dylan, after all, and even if his 80's records are subpar I imagine they'll at least be interesting. And that's all that really matters, right?

Well. In either case, perhaps to delay the inevitable, I've been padding out my Dylan listening with a few live albums here and there. The Bootleg Series Vol.5, chronicling the early months of Dylan's Rolling Thunder Revue tour back in '75, was probably the biggest surprise for me in terms of sheer quality; to put it bluntly, it is the best live Dylan record I have heard, and unless I am pleasantly surprised later on (unlikely, considering that I have Real Live and Dylan & The Dead to look forward to) I imagine it will stay that way. Whereas Dylan's 1966 "Royal Albert Hall" concert - often cited as his best live document - captures Dylan at his angriest and most elusive, reinterpreting his older folk classics as brash electric rockers whether his audience liked it or not, The Rolling Thunder Revue is nothing but celebratory. The first six tracks here are, to me, some of the best music this guy's ever created: "Tonight I'm Staying Here With You," previously the sweet, unassuming final track on Nashville Skyline, is recast here as a driving anthem without losing a hint of its intimacy; "It Ain't Me, Babe", beyond all reason, works as a reggae-tinged country song; and "The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll" takes a previously dour protest song and intensifies it beyond all measure. Far and away my favorite track here, however, would be "A Hard Rain's-A Gonna Fall," which manages to take one of Dylan's most prophetic standbys and turn it into a boogie-rock hoedown. Just this track alone - featuring one of Dylan's fiercest vocal performances - may be proof that when it comes to reinterpreting Dylan, nobody does it better than the man himself.

The rest of Rolling Thunder isn't nearly as exciting as those first six tracks, but what it lacks in intensity it more than makes up for in intimacy and open-heartedness. For one thing, it features Dylan's first duets with Joan Baez in over a decade, with the two of them performing lovely versions of "Blowin' In The Wind," "Mama You Been On My Mind" and "I Shall Be Released." Dylan's solo acoustic songs are practically as good, with effective takes on "Mr. Tambourine Man," "Love Minus Zero," and then-recent Blood On The Tracks classics "Tangled Up In Blue" and "Simple Twist Of Fate". And while I will admit that most of the live Desire tracks here don't do much for me - they're fine, but not remarkable - the Revue's performance of "Isis" is so great that it almost makes the studio version redundant. The Bootleg Series Vol. 5 succeeds by combining the best of both worlds, leavening Dylan's penchant for defying audience expectations with a sweet sense of nostalgia that never comes off as pandering. Even if it doesn't replicate the exact feel of a Rolling Thunder show, it feels like a complete Dylan experience.

At Budokan isn't nearly as good as Rolling Thunder, but considering that it was recorded during Dylan's Street Legal tour, this isn't much of a surprise. Everybody hated Street Legal, and everybody hated its subsequent tour, in which Dylan littered the stage with female vocal accompaniment, horn and string sections, and more than a few flutes. Mockingly titled his "Vegas Tour" by critics (or his "Alimony Tour," referring to his recent divorce, which just seems downright mean to me), these shows featured even more radical reworkings of old Dylan hits; only here, rather than take these songs into bold new territory, Dylan somehow manages to make a lot of them sound like Jimmy Buffet songs. At Budokan, which chronicles the bulk of the tour's setlist, can be trying for any Dylan diehard - not just for the goofy Neil Diamond-esque arrangements, but for Dylan's wheezy and uncomfortable voice, which can be a little shocking to hear after the intensity of his Rolling Thunder vocals. And it doesn't help that the record is a full 99 minutes long, turning what could have been a brief misstep into a hellish gauntlet of cheese.

Now, I won't sit here and pretend that At Budokan was anything more than a mild, often uncomfortable experience. It wasn't. But at the same time, it didn't disgust or offend me - and, once in a while, I was appealing to the ear. Streamlined versions of "Like A Rolling Stone" and "Blowin' In The Wind", while not matching the originals, are lovely; "I Want You" is surprisingly gorgeous as a slower ballad (perhaps inspired by Bruce Springsteen's live version from a few years before?); a full-band version of "Simple Twist Of Fate" makes it sound deceptively romantic; and there's even a Hendrix-esque electric version of "All Along The Watchtower"! Even a few of the sillier arrangements, like "Mr. Tambourine Man" and a bouncy "All I Really Wanna Do," manage to retain some charm. But on the other side of the coin, you've got awkward reggae versions of both "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright" and "Knockin' On Heaven's Door"; obnoxiously leaden versions of of "It's Alright Ma" and "Maggie's Farm"; a painfully forced, chanted "Shelter From The Storm"; and a performance of "Is Your Love In Vain?," not exactly the best possible choice from Street Legal. For a lack of a better term, it is a mixed bag, one that might reward a patient Dylan fan willing to sit through some of the corniest arrangements of his career; for everybody else, it's easy to skip it. Despite some good moments, it is a mostly joyless experience.

(Although I would like to know - in both Rolling Thunder and At Budokan, the last verse of "Simple Twist of Fate" is entirely changed. The original verse might be my favorite Dylan lyric ever, so I'm a little sad to see it changed on more than one occasion. Did he just not like the original version??)

At Budokan's slick professionalism may well foreshadow Dylan's artistic demise in the 80's; it's not horrible, but it is mediocre enough to warrant concern. I wouldn't know, though - I haven't even heard those later records yet! That will be for next time. I will warn you, though - if you are not much of a Dylan fan, the next couple posts or so will be of absolutely no interest to you. (Then again, neither would THIS one, so. Never mind.)

Until then, here is Batman to offer you a brief preview of what is to come!!

A Notice... For The FUTURE!!

2010-04-29T19:52:00.007-04:00

Reviews are a comin'.

Requested reviews might be stalled for a little bit. I have a big fat Bob Dylan project I am working on. Some of which you might see in the next week or so.

Also, I still haven't posted an Alex Chilton retrospective or anything. Jeez! I am a heartless idiot. That will be coming soon, although not quite in the way you might expect.

Oh and also... maybe some video reviews will be coming??

HMM YES MAYBE

Requested Review: "Tarkus" by Emerson Lake and Palmer

2010-03-18T13:05:00.004-04:00

eh heh... hahh.

I've been having a hard time expressing my disappointment with Emerson Lake and Palmer's 1971 prog-rock-opera Tarkus. Because, honestly, what did I expect? I've never been a fan of the band, never listened to them voluntarily (with the exception of "Lucky Man" and maybe "Karn Evil 9," but then again those are played on FM radio every five minutes so I guess they don't count). I've just always heard that they were the pinnacle of 70's rock excess - musical virtuosos who performed an adaptation of "Pictures At An Exhibition", released triple-live albums, and appeared on TV with a real tiger onstage because one of their songs had the word "tiger" in the title. Their goofy bombast is so notorious that it is impossible to watch ANY punk rock documentary nowadays without seeing a clip of Keith Emerson noodlin' on his keyboard - to show what punk was "up against."

So, naturally, I have a tendency to poke fun at them from time to time. Because it's easy.

Of course, blogfriend Adam Spektor - a longtime ELP fan - was having none of this. So he challenged me to put my money where my mouth is and actually sit through a full-length ELP record, which I had never done. Tarkus was the album he chose, and even now I haven't the slightest clue as to why. Did he think I would be "charmed" by the twenty minute opening title track about an armadillo with tank treads? Or did he just think it would be funny? (I'm guessing the latter.)

My first, honest reaction to the aforementioned title track: anger. Pure, all-encompassing rage. I had no idea what I was listening to! Twenty minutes of directionless, non-rocking, un-catchy prog rock masturbation, featuring Keith Emerson bangin' on his keyboard a whole goddamn lot. I don't even - I'm not even sure if he's enjoying himself. It's more like some kid on the playground told him he "couldn't play piano good", and this is his way of saying "nuh-uh!" "Tarkus" is filled with so many long and winding passages of Emerson playing his keyboard really really fast and in such crazy complicated time signatures that it entirely loses focus. Often it is hard to tell where one part begins and another ends, because Keith just keeps on playing. It is a song you can get lost in, and I don't mean that in the good way. I mean that in the literal sense. It is the musical equivalent of those woods in The Blair Witch Project, only without the luxury of dying at the end. (Weak burn, but you get the idea.)

Now, I will be fair. That was my first listen. I've heard "Tarkus" a few more times since then, and I will admit it becomes easier to wade through once you've gotten used to it. The obvious highlight of whole ordeal would be Greg Lake's parts, mostly because they sound like actual honest-to-goodness songs. With, you know, melodies and structure and all that. And, I will admit, Greg Lake's songs can be pretty cool, especially "Tarkus"-parts "Stones Of Years" and "Mass." They are goofy and embarrassing lyrically, yes, but they have a lot more personality than Emerson's endless, boring solos. I don't think I'll ever like "Tarkus," but I can at least bear it now.

Oh, and like I said, it's apparently about an armadillo with tank treads. The one on the cover. I don't know anything about that and I don't care.

Tarkus's second side is markedly better than the first, and it's not hard to see why - it's six separate songs, each one a collaborative group effort. That is, not primarily written by Keith "I Can Just Noodle On My Hammond Organ Really Fast For Ten Minutes And Slap A Cool Song Title On It!" Emerson. And they aren't even all stereotypical prog! Side opener "Jeremy Bender" is a silly piano goodtime song that stands in stark contrast to the overly serious "epic" that preceded it, and "Are You Ready Eddy" is an intentionally jokey 50's rock spit-take. And the songs that are stereotypical prog rock aren't bad! "Bitches Crystal" is essentially a more likable take on the musical themes "Tarkus" wore thin; the organ heavy dirge "The Only Way" is oddly appealing, despite its ridiculous welcome-to-1971 lyrics ("Can you believe / God makes you breathe? / Why did He lose / Six million Jews??"); "Infinite Space" is an appealing instrumental, and "A Time And A Place" features a dramatic and engrossing Greg Lake vocal. So I mean - these guys clearly could have made the first half of this record a lot better than it is. But Emerson just had to have his way, I guess.

Listen. Don't get the impression that I have a bias against 20-minute songs and that is why I am getting all upset about this. Not true! I mean, I don't love them, but it really depends on the band. Look at Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here or Animals for example - both contain multiple songs reaching past the ten-minute mark, and in Animals' case they even cover the same "War Is Bad" themes as Tarkus. The difference is, of course, that Pink Floyd understood how to gradually build mood, atmosphere, and dramatic tension - not to mention they were much better songwriters than anybody in ELP. Say what you will about the Floyd, but man, they knew what they were doing in their prime. I don't think you can truly appreciate a band like Pink Floyd until you've given Tarkus a listen.

So here is my final word on Tarkus - not as awful as I thought it was, but not an album I will ever find myself listening to again. And like I said, it's hard to say I was actually disappointed with this result, but honestly? I was hoping for a surprise. After all these years making fun of ELP without actually listening to them, I was hoping that all my preconceptions of the band would be entirely falsified and that I would be - beyond all logic - blown away. I did not expect this album to be, well, exactly what I expected it to be. If that makes any sense.

What I will say is this - nobody outside of the year 1971 could record an album like Tarkus. Absolutely nobody.

...except maybe the Mars Volta.

P.S.: If the previous review was a lil' too long for you, a more succinct overview of my feelings toward this record can be found here.

P.P.S.: Did you hear? Alex Chilton died. Man, that's fucking horrible. A retrospective post will come soon, I am sure.

Requested Review: "Discovery" by Daft Punk

2010-03-01T22:52:00.006-05:00

i could have just put up the american cover art here but how boring would THAT be

So tonight I will be reviewing Daft Punk's 2001 record Discovery, as requested by blog/twitter/comicfriend Stephanie O'Donnell. It is a funny thing that has happened, with this record here; I first listened to it over a month ago, right after I finally managed to purge Chocolate Starfish from my system. And not only did I enjoy it, I listened to it a good four or five times within the span of a few days, feeling pretty prepared to write a nice review while my Daft Punk buzz was still lingering.

But THEN I spent a month and a half doing absolutely nothing! Life. So it is.

Either way, I am happy to be reviewing Discovery. Despite the fact that this is the first time I have actually sat down and listened to a Daft Punk album all the way through, my love of the classic "One More Time" runs so deep that I almost feel like I have been a fan of the band for years. Forgive me for turning into a hyperbolic critic for a second, but it is such a perfect end-of-the-millennium pre-9/11 party jam that it is impossible for me not to consider it a classic. Like Andrew W.K.'s similar classic "Party Hard" from the same year, it revels in the sheer power of insistent, sloganeering repetition: "ONE MORE TIME!" "WE'RE GONNA CELEBRATE!" "CELEBRATE AND DANCE SO FREE!" "...ONE MORE TIME!!" And of course, filtered through Romanthony's heavily-filtered vocals, you just have to listen. It is one of those songs that just sounds like such a good time, it is impossible not to have a good time yourself the moment you hear it.

It doesn't hurt that "One More Time" came out back when I was in 8th grade, one of my more enjoyable years attending public school. I will not bother you with my memories of the song, because they aren't particularly exciting. But I will say that, thanks to "One More Time," my memories of that time seem a lot more colorful and intoxicating than I imagine they actually were.

I will say that Discovery is, like "One More Time," an album that evokes constant party-times and does not let up throughout its hour-or-so running time. Even when "One More Time" and "Aerodynamic" end with ominous church bells, or the synth keyboards of "Nightvision" briefly bring the album into a chilled-out groove, Discovery has an unstoppable energy. In fact, the album's first four tracks are so powerful that it is almost impossible for the rest of the record to follow them up: besides the aforementioned opener "One More Time," we have the twisted instrumental "Aerodynamic" (with a processed guitar solo in the middle that I am pretty much in love with), followed by what might be my favorite track on the record next to "One More Time" - "Digital Love." Unlike most of Discovery's other tracks, "Digital Love" relies more on a poppy (and, obviously, vocodered) vocal melody than a repetitious techno-dance groove, and is all the better for it. I mean, it's just so catchy! And adorable! And there are synth-horns that come out of nowhere. I have no idea who sings it, but man. It is an intoxicating and lovely track.

This four-track opening blitz ends with "Harder Better Faster Stronger" which I don't need to say a word about. You know it, you idiot. Let's not play these games!! It was in that Kanye song and that Youtube clip of that guy with the fingers. Of course you know it. Now, I am not going to sit here and tell you that Discovery gets worse all of the sudden after "Stronger" is over - that would not be right of me, to say such things. Because who can knock the insane blip-bloopy rush of "Crescendolls"? Or the funky, laid-back groove of "Something About Us"? Or the insistent dance-floor dramatics of "Superheroes? or "High Life"? Nobody can, that is who. Especially not somebody like me!

At the same time, I feel that Discovery's techno-dance-grooves become less and less distinctive as the record wears on. That is just how it is for me. I don't always make it to the ten-minute closer "Too Long," that is all I am saying. Some of the last few tracks on here seem to repeat a pleasant little keyboard hook, throw some phatt-ass beats under it, and repeat them over and over adding a little bit more to the mix each time. It is entertaining background dance-floor music to be sure, but it does not hold my attention for too long. I am only saying this because, well, the first half or so of Discovery is just so good and distinctive - "One More Time" and "Digital Love" being the chief examples here - that the record's second half feels a little more disposable. (And I feel like Daft Punk knew they were front-loading the album - the first four tracks I mentioned above were all released as singles.)

But perhaps I am being finicky. I have listened through Discovery in its entirety several times and have enjoyed it. I admit that I know little to nothing about Daft Punk - I have never heard '97's Homework or '05's Human After All - so it is impossible for me to judge this record in the context of their career. The albums that bookend this one could sound completely different, or could be more of the same. I don't know, man!! What I do know about Discovery is that it is a perfectly pleasant and often exhilirating techno-pop album, one of those unique records that is easily accessible to a mainstream pop audience but also contains a sense of depth and ingenious studio finesse that you many not always find in a pop record.

I guess the bottom line is, it is a fun album and I like it a whole bunch.

There! That wasn't so hard.

How many Daft Punk fans have I upset with this review? Several, I bet. I feel like there is a lot more I could say about Discovery, especially after all this time and all these playthroughs, but oh well. This is how I always feel, after these reviews. It never gets any easier.

Either way, I feel that I am once again energized to get some reviews done. The next one - the next one's gonna be a good one, folks. I can feel it. It's one I've been waiting to do for a good long time. Be prepared!!

Delays, Delays

2010-02-28T21:41:00.005-05:00

Oh, hey!

Blog's not dead. I have been taking a little break! Sometimes I need to do this. New posts are forthcoming. Things have been weird lately, that is all I'll say.

Until the next review, I will implore all of you to check out the new-and-improved Climbing The Horizon blog, ran by blogbuddy Matt C-Roy. I am now a contributor for this site, hey! But I don't have any reviews up there yet, because I am lazy. This will also change.

Oh also, hey, why don't you check out KC Green's new site?? He has one! That guy is still making very funny comics, wow, check those out.

So yes. I will be back. For now, enjoy the Backstreet Boys' latest Max Martin-penned masterpiece.

Requested Review: "Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water" by Limp Bizkit

2010-01-14T15:22:00.005-05:00

Famed blogger Sean Rose, preparing himself for his greatest review ever.

I promised myself I would not let this happen. I promised myself that I would listen through Limp Bizkit's 2000 long-player Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water all the way through once or twice within the span of a couple days, review it, and be done with it. And then I could move on, free to focus on the next batch of requested reviews and whatever I wanted otherwise. Free from the ne'er-ending gaze of the Red Cap.

But here I am, almost a month after I first listened to this album, and the blog has remained silent until now. Clearly, I have failed.

Do I have any excuses for this delay? No, no. Nothing legitimate. To offer some kind of explanation, here is a brief rundown of my listening experiences with this record throughout the last month:

- Got the album. Listened to it. Made fun of it on Twitter. Somehow managed to make it all the way to track 11 ("I'll Be OK") before I started to feel sick and turned it off.
- Listened to "The Rod Stewart Album" for the first time. Liked it a lot.
- Listened to "The Rod Stewart Album" a few more times.
- Started the next track on Starfish, "Boiler," days later. Got 20 seconds in before I put something else on.
- Listened to "The Rod Stewart Album" one more time. Still good.
- Weeks passed. Finally listened to "Boiler," along with the rest of the album.
- Made fun of it on Twitter again.

And, well. Here I am. A changed man.

I still am not sure how to approach a review like this. Trying to pidgeonhole a record like Chocolate Starfish with words like "good" or "bad" is an exercise is futility. This is a record that simply... exists. As such, I feel it is only necessary to give you a brief rundown on what you might find in this, this seventy-five minute long hell-creature commonly referred to as "Limp Bizkit's third album."

- In case you skimmed over the previous statement, I will repeat: this record is seventy-five minutes in length. Seventy. Five. Minutes. In that span of time, only four songs are less than four minutes long, one of which is the album's minute-long spoken word intro. Average song length here would be around five minutes, often bordering on six - with a few near the end of the record surpassing seven. Now, I'll be fair here and admit that Starfish's ten-minute "Outro" probably should not count as a proper track, since it's just a lazy compilation of studio noises and Ben Stiller prattling on about his love of the band (I'll get to that later). So in reality the record is only about 65 minutes long.

But that's... that's still a lot. To put things in perspective, I have trouble with 60+ minute long albums by bands I LIKE, unless it's fucking Exile On Main Street or something. I can't tell you how much better I feel Michael Jackson's Dangerous or even R.E.M.'s New Adventures In Hi-Fi would have been if they had just whittled away a few songs here and there. So that is something to keep in mind.

- The first proper song in here, "Hot Dog," features Fred Durst saying the word "fuck" almost 50 times. I know this because he keeps count: "If I say 'fuck' two more times / that's 46 fucks in this fucked up rhyme!!" And as a bonus, if you listen through all three minutes and fifty seconds of the song for yourself, Fred will give you a full rundown on many, many other things that are "fucked up" (including, but not limited to: the world, peoples' faces, a kid AND the knife he is holding, and life itself).

It also happens to have the ugliest chorus in the history of popular music.

- If you enjoy the classic Limp single "Rollin'," and are bemused by the fact that 99.9% of most commercially released rock records do NOT feature the song, Chocolate Starfish is the record for you. "Rollin'" is featured here not once, but twice: first as the original single ("Air Raid Vehicle") version, and later on as an extended remix ("Urban Assault Vehicle") version. Single version's 3:34 minutes, remix version's 6:32 minutes. For those keeping count, that is almost ten straight minutes of "Rollin'. Almost one-sixth of the record.

- There are some guest voices featured on this record. They are: Xzibit on "Getcha Groove On," the most explicitly hip-hop oriented track here; Method Man, Redman, and DMX on "Rollin' (Urban Assault Vehicle)"; and Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots pops in to sing most of "Hold On." I don't hold any particular love for any of these guys (well, maybe Method Man and Redman but that's it), but they are a breath of fresh air after almost one straight hour of Fred Durst's obnoxious yelping. If there were a guest singer/rapper on every track here, Starfish would be a whole lot easier to fight through.

- Oh, and yes, I guess Ben Stiller counts as a guest vocal too. For some reason, he and the Limp were tight bros back in 2000; not only does he show up in the intro to the Rollin' music video, he gets an explicit shout-out from Fred in the intro to "Livin' It Up" (in which he is referred to as Fred's "favorite motherfucker") and has a bizarre recorded conversation with the band during the "Outro." After asking Fred if he grew up with DJ Lethal (and whether or not they called him DJ Lethal when he was a kid), he starts to giggle maniacally. Then his giggling is looped, over and over again, for about 3 full minutes.

- And - AND - according to Wikipedia, this record also features the guest vocals of Third Eye Blind's Stephan Jenkins, Mark Wahlberg, and (I am not making this up) skateboarder/Rob and Big star Rob Dyrdek. I have no idea where they are on this record, but suffice it to say if this is not some kind of Wiki-editing prank and they are in there somewhere, then Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water currently holds the world record for "Largest Percentage of Sheer Unfiltered Douche In A Commercially Released Rock Album." (What I am saying is, Rock Against Bush Vol. 2, you will have to settle for second place.)

- 90% of this record is your generic rap-rock garbage-guitar business, with Fred Durst complaining about everybody hating his band in the most lyrically blunt way possible ("hate is all the world has even seen lately," indeed). This you probably already assumed. But there are a few songs here that manage to break the mold: "The One," for instance, is a straight-up love song with not a single "shit" or "fucked up" to its name if you can believe that. Hell, it even has an interesting echoey guitar riff that god forbid I actually like! I mean, on any other record it would probably not be much, but in the middle of this 75-minute behemoth it is like finding an oasis in the middle of the Sahara. The aforementioned "Getcha Groove On" is a passable attempt at straight hip-hop, at least in Limp Bizkit terms. And "Hold On" is a slow, grungy ballad mostly sung by Scott Weiland, and it works because it doesn't actually sound like a Limp Bizkit song at all until Fred Durst finally decides to show up. Which, sadly, is right after the first chorus.

- I never thought Fred Durst was a particularly talented lyricist/rapper, for obvious reasons. But I honestly never knew he was this bad. Most of the rhymes here make "Nookie" sound like Paul's Boutique - that is, when Fred actually bothers to rhyme and doesn't just end a line with a misplaced "shit" or "fucked up."

God. God. What else can I say?

To put this record in perspective, Chocolate Starfish was the last Limp Bizkit record released when the band was still a significantly popular group. Shortly after its release, guitarist/skull-suit-wearing-dude Wes Borland would quit the band, leaving them in a creative tailspin. The unfortunately-titled Results May Vary would be released to commercial and critical guffaws in 2003, featuring a remarkable cover of the Who's "Behind Blue Eyes." After that, I could care less what happened to them.

That all, in a nutshell, is all you need to know about Limp Bizkit's Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water - or, at least, is all I could possibly write about them without driving myself insane. Originally I was planning on just ignoring a review entirely in favor of a list of notable lyrics from the album, but this would require me to listen through the album multiple times and I was not planning on doing that. Feel free to look them up yourself.

And to be fair, blogbuddy Dave Winchell knew exactly how I would react to his request, so I am not worried about disappointing him. I am worried, admittedly, that after almost a month-long buildup this review has failed to meet some lofty expectations. If that is the case, then I apologize deeply.

But what I can say is this: I have listened to this album twice through, and I have come out alive. And at the end of the day, isn't that enough??

On the New Year, Comics, and Upcoming Requested Reviews

2010-01-09T18:38:00.004-05:00

Hello people! A happy new decade to you all. I have to apologize for the lack of updates in the past month or so. This laziness can be attributed to two things:

1) The holiday season. Even though I was home all month and could have easily updated. HEYY.
2) My next requested review is Limp Bizkit's "Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water," which is such an outstanding chore to listen to that I have to turn it off within two minutes of putting it on.

So yes, these are unfortunate reasons. But I will write that review soon! I will power through!! Maybe tomorrow, maybe tonight? No, maybe not. But definitely - DEFINITELY - sometime next week. I've gotta get this monkey off my back, you know?

But you might be wondering, "HEY HEY Sean, what other requested albums are you gonna be reviewing??" That's a fair question. Here is a shortlist of the current requests I will be taking care of, in chronological order:

- Limp Bizkit's Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water, requested by Dave Winchell
- Daft Punk's Discovery, requested by Captain Booyah
- Emerson Lake and Palmer's Tarkus, requested by Adam Spektor
- Faith No More's Angel Dust, requested by James
- They Might Be Giants' The Else, requested by Steve Winchell (he's been throwing a lot of these at me, this is the last one, I THINK it's serious)

So yeah. That's the lineup so far. I would also like to put it out there and make these "requested reviews" a continuous and lasting thing, because I seriously enjoy them and want to do a whole lot more of them. So if anybody, ANYWHERE, has an album they would like me to review, shoot me an email or leave a comment anywhere on this blog and I will get right on it! I promise you this.

Also, I would like to take a second and talk about comics. Comics that, believe it or not, I have been making. If you remember those hourly comics I made last year, I have been making more of them this month, whenever I get the chance. The last ones I did you can read here, and you can keep following my LJ to read more of them. They are a whole lot of fun to do!

Also, just to let you know: I have some new Tom Petty Comics from Steve, just sittin' around. Those will come. They will.

So that's it for now. The Limp Bizkit review will come in the next week or so, I promise you this. I just... I just need the willpower.

On the Subject of Banners, New and Olde

2009-12-21T18:42:00.011-05:00

looks more like me than... i dunno, me?

Oh what hey?? Yes you may have noticed that there is a new and wonderful banner at the top of this blog. It was created by none other than the ever-talented KC Green, a man who makes comics on the internet that are pretty much great all the time. Forever and ever amen.

Seriously though, I asked KC to help me out with this banner and he finished it within - I don't know, a week of me asking him for it?? I gave him the basic idea of what I wanted it to look like, but I did not need to tell him much 'cuz he pretty much nailed it as you can clearly see. He is a stand-up dude, he really is, not to mention that he is probably my favorite cartoonist on the web right now. Hey friends, here is a question: have you read Gunshow yet?? Well if the answer is "no" then congratulations, you have never read the funniest comic ever made. Or what about Horribleville? Come on, get with it people! These are all the best.

I have written about KC in this blog before but it was a long time ago and probably not very well worded. So I will just end this by saying that hey you should give this man all your money unless you are some kind of fool. Also KC was cool enough to make an extra-long post in his LJ about this whole mess, including all the full-size completed album covers he nicely drew for me! Yes, including the entire Hanson Middle Of Nowhere cover!! God I can't imagine how he must have felt, sitting there and drawing such a thing. THANKS AGAIN KC THE BANNER IS GREAT.

But now I would also like to give a long-overdue thanks to long-suffering blogfriend Stephen Winchell, artist of Phil for many years, who drew the last couple banners I proudly displayed here. Steve's banners were instrumental in building a "look" for this blog (whatever that might be), and he made them without me even soliciting him to do it, so I thank him from the bottom of my heart.

as you can see, Steve was nice enough not to draw me as the pathetic loser i really am

Steve's way of drawing me was the jumping off point for KC's, so I guess Steve had a little bit to do with this eh?? I don't know why he draws me that way but there is nothing I can do to stop him. But I have to thank him. He also likes to draw me vomiting, for some reason. Here, see:

Wow. So thanks Steve, thanks KC, these banners are the best, I don't deserve them etc. etc. In the meantime, be on the lookout for more requested reviews! The next one might be the most bizarre one yet, if it is the album I think it is. Who knows?? Stay tuned blogfriends.

Requested Review: "Wilco (the album)" by Wilco

2009-12-17T18:34:00.001-05:00

adorable.

My good buddy Matt Hoffman has been waiting for his requested review for a good long time now. And with good reason - he's been waiting since, what, July? Poor guy.

Matt asked me to review Wilco's new self-titled album (Wilco (The Album) as they call it), which I have had sitting in my iTunes since its release without having actually listened to it once in its entirety. I can't explain why this is; a few songs have popped up here and there, but I guess I have just been distracted with other records, which tends to happen often (I have a horrible attention span). But I consider Wilco to be one of my favorite modern rock bands, and so it is a little weird that I have ignored their new release for such a long time. I haven't heard Dinosaur Jr's new album yet either, which came out around the same time as Wilco's. Do I just not care anymore?? Oh jeez.

No, I don't think that's it. I am just not a man that gets very excited about new music releases from anybody (which is kind of weird since I run a music blog but let's get past that for a bit), so I just kind of let them fall by the wayside. The only new release that I have been excited about recently has been the Flaming Lips' Embryonic - 'cause, y'know, it's the Flaming Lips and all that. But I am also a pretty big Wilco fan so I still have no real reason to not be all excited about this album too! What is the deal here??

Hey it doesn't matter let's just talk about the album we have here. Wilco (The Album)'s first track is called "Wilco (the song)" and for the life of me sounds like a song that is actually about the band itself, which is the weirdest thing. I could be completely wrong here (and feel free to correct me if I am) but I think Wilco are quite possibly the first band to write a theme song about themselves since, oh I don't know, the Monkees? But that's the thing, 'cuz the Monkees' theme song was the first track on their first album, not to mention the opening theme song for a TV show based around them (and hey it wasn't even WRITTEN by them). Wilco, I will say, are the first band to write a track about themselves as the opener of their seventh studio album after a decade-and-a-half career in the music industry. "This is a man with arms open wide / A sonic shoulder for you to cry / ay, ay, ay, on, Wilco / Wilco will love you, baby." Hmm.

But besides that bizarre moment of self-mythology, Wilco's new album is not really anything new. I know I sound like kind of a dick saying that, but it's true; Wilco (The Album) shares the same down-home chilled-out atmosphere as 2007's Sky Blue Sky, but you'll hear some Yankee Hotel Foxtrot here and some Summerteeth there, and maybe even some hints of their earliest records. I wouldn't know, myself, because I'm a terrible Wilco fan and the only Wilco records I have heard are all the ones I just listed above. I'm a shallow shallow man.

Oh man I was going to talk about those other Wilco albums before but I forgot to! Let me fill you in. 1999's Summerteeth was the first Wilco album I ever heard and it is still my favorite. It's pop magnificence, man! Catchy hooks and great production and "A Shot In The Arm" and all that. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is pretty good and I love "Heavy Metal Drummer" and all but I am not as crazy about it as so many other people are. I haven't heard it in a while, maybe that's my problem, but it's a little too moody for my tastes. Would you hate me if I told you I kinda like Sky Blue Sky a little better?? It's such a pretty album! I admit that it's not a "sonic masterpiece of this decade" or anything like that but it's just so amiable that I can't help but love it. "You Are My Face"? "Side With The Seeds"? "What Light"? Get out of my face, those are so good.

So in that context I would say that Wilco (The Album) sounds like a mix of Sky Blue Sky's mellow atmosphere and Summerteeth's immaculate pop songcraft, which is why I am confused that I don't like it a lot more than I do. I don't dislike it or anything, but I have listened through it four or five times now and my only reaction as been along the lines of "oh, that was pleasant." Pleasant, but nothing that grabs me, you know? Sky Blue Sky was "pleasant" too but it kind of sucked me in in a way that I can't quite pinpoint. Maybe I just liked the songs better?

That might be the case. My favorite songs here are the straight-up pop songs: the aforementioned "Wilco (the Song)", the groovy "Sonny Feeling", and the wonderful "You Never Know," the first single from the album. "You Never Know" is honestly a great single and probably the best and most inviting pop song Wilco has written since Summerteeth. Every time it comes on I have to sit there and listen to the whole thing, it makes me feel so good! And that cutesy George Harrison-esque guitar solo near the end? Jeff Tweedy are you trying to paralyze me with powerpop fanboy glee?? Man, what a good track.

There are a couple vaguely "artsy" songs on here, too - "Deeper Down" recalls Yankee Hotel Foxtrot with its unusual structure, and "Bull Black Nova" repeats this bizarre monotonous piano riff for a while before descending into a guitar jam not unlike Sky Blue Sky's "Impossible Germany." But besides these songs and the aforementioned pop-rockers, Wilco is a pretty mellow album, almost to a fault. Songs like "Country Disappeared" and "Solitaire" are quite lovely, really they are, and Tweedy's duet with Feist in "You and I" is nice and all. But it feels a little drab and there are times when I feel like they are retreading old ground - does "I'll Fight" sound a bit much like "On And On And On" from the last album or am I just paranoid? The whole album smacks of a "been there done that" sort of feeling for me. I think it's fine for a band to consolidate their strengths and write songs in a signature style that they know they're good at, and clearly this is what Wilco did on this album. I just feel like most of the songs are not as good as songs on previous releases.

But really - I'm being overly negative. If you are a casual Wilco fan I'm sure you'll like this album, because it certainly is a Wilco album! Jeff Tweedy sings on every song and there are guitars and catchy hooks and Americana and all that. Also the word "Wilco" is on the cover of the record so you know what you're in for. And "Sonny Feeling," hey, that's a fun little track huh? I think I would honestly like Wilco (The Album) a whole lot more if they'd stuck with the fun pop-rock of those aforementioned few tracks for the whole album, but that's just me and I am not the wisest man alive.

Matt, do you like it? I'm sorry if you do because I have been a dick in this review like always and I'm sorry to do this to you. I mostly like it! It just feels a little slow and samey sometimes. What can you do?

Whatever. I'm happy Wilco are still around. And when else am I gonna be able to compare them to the Monkees? Never, ever again. That is something to cherish. Oh, how I wish I could write this review of Wilco's 2009 release Wilco (The Album) for the rest of my life.

But no, I can't do that. Then when would I ever get to Limp Bizkit??

(Oh, and Matt - do you have a blog or a website or anything? If so gimme a shout and I'll link to it.)

Requested Review: "Time" by the Electric Light Orchestra

2009-12-05T13:25:00.004-05:00

remember the good 'ol 1980s??

Ahh yes, finally, a requested review from none other than good blogfriend and Phil writer Benjamin Vigeant! I'm not sure if anybody remembers this, but Ben was nice enough to request an album review of me about a year ago, the first time I actually bothered to ask people for requests in the first place. He actually requested a comic-review, if you can believe that, and I obliged him by writing one of the worst reviews/comics I have ever made. It was mean-spirited, obnoxious, and - worst of all - horribly horribly drawn. And it barely even mentioned the album he requested in the first place! I would like to delete it forever, but who am I to edit my own past?? I don't believe in that. I will at least not bother to link to it here - if you really want to fish it out of the archives, God bless you.

So now I hope I can make up for past mistakes with this, what I hope will be a proper review of the album Time by Jeff Lynne's Electrical Light Orchestra, released in 1981. I am under the impression that Ben asked me to review this one 'cause he knew that I would like it - and, well, he's right! I will admit that my personal history with ELO is a little limited; the only album of theirs I'd had before I heard Time was A New World Record, which I have always loved. But still, I admit that I feel a little out-of-place giving Time a positive review without being able to compare it to their more well-regarded 70's albums; I've only heard Eldorado a couple times and I haven't even approached Out Of The Blue. So what I'm saying is, Time could be a complete piece of shit and I'm just so green-behind-the-ears that I can't hear it!!

Well, OK, I'll get Time's most obvious flaw out of the way right now: it has to be one of the most dated-sounding pop albums I have ever heard. Everything about it, from the synth-drenched orchestration to the vocoder-filtered vocals to the "CRAZY FUTURISTIC" lyrics, screams "I AM A POP ROCK ALBUM RECORDED IN THE EARLY NINETEEN-EIGHTIES." So I would say that your enjoyment of Time will mostly be based on how many early 80's production cliches you will be able to stomach in the span of 45 minutes. I, personally, find it to be more cutesy than disgusting, but I am sure there are plenty of listeners who would not share my views on this. These people will not like Time in the slightest.

Oh, and it's a concept album too! A sci-fi concept album! I probably should have brought that up earlier. What from I can tell, the "plot" (and I use that term loosely) of this album follows some guy from the year 1981 (the year this album was released, coincidentally!!) who is kidnapped by some time-traveling nogoodniks and sent to the year 2095 for some reason that is not really explained. He tries to have sex with a robot, misses his girlfriend a whole lot, and I think is sent back to his own time in the end having learned absolutely nothing. I guess the future is a pretty depressing place, and he doesn't like it there so much. So he sings about going back to 1981 a whole lot, and then he does. I guess that's it? Don't ask me, I am not a genius raconteur like Mr. Jeff Lynne.

But let's just forgo all of that right now. Time, despite its near-crippling corniness, is a good album 'cause it's full of those fun and catchy melodies Mr. Lynne and company have always been known for. How can we, as a nation, deny the sheer hookiness of epic rockers like "Twilight" and "Hold On Tight," the adorable reggae-tinged "The Lights Go Down," or the wonderful balladry of "Rain Is Falling" and "21st Century Man"? We can't, we can't. These songs are so good that you can easily ignore their silly lyrical themes - I mean, I think "Rain Is Falling" is about a time machine or something, but who cares when the melody is just so good?? That's "Telephone Line" quality, my friend. There are also some neat moments of moodiness here, like the piano melody of "Ticket To The Moon" and the dark synth patterns of "Another Heart Breaks." Then there is what I would say is my favorite song on the album, "The Way Life's Meant To Be," with its lovely flamenco-styled guitar and a melody worthy of A New World Record. What a catchy song! It reminds me that my favorite songs on this album are the ones that sound like "classic" ELO: songs "Rain Is Falling" and "Twilight" would probably fit right in there with their 70s work. But again, that is a somewhat presumptuous thing for me to say, considering that I have barely heard any of their 70's albums in the first place! Man I should get on that.

There are a couple songs that should be brought to your attention, however. Those would be "Yours Truly, 2095" and "Here Is The News," far and away the two corniest songs on this record. Mr. Vigeant himself singled these two out just for their totally silly lyrics, and I have to agree with him. The former is a rumination on the protagonist's new robotic future girlfriend, described as he writes a letter back to his human girlfriend in 1981 ("I met someone who looks a lot like you / she does the things you do / but she is an IBM"). My favorite lines: "She has an IQ of 1001 / She has a jumpsuit on / and she's also a telephone." The latter song - easily the most ridiculous on the album - is meant to be a newscast from the year 2095, broadcasting a whole lot of FUUUUTURISTIC events ("The weather's fine, but there might be a meteor shower"; "A cure's been found for good 'ol rocket lag") over an insistent synth beat and random spoken-word snippets from FUUUUTURE TELEVISION. These are moments of such pure cheesiness that I just can't help but love them. Suffice it to say, if you can brave these two songs, you are probably going to enjoy Time just fine; if not, I guess I can't blame you.

But y'know - in the end it's just a fun pop-rock record. 45 minutes long, full of 3-to-4 minute songs that won't wear out their welcome. Nothing that's going to blow you away I'm sure, and there's plenty to scoff at here for fans of music that isn't totally embarrassing and dated. But you cannot argue with these melodies, man! They are just so good. I found Time to be a very entertaining trip down melody lane (ha ha) and I am sure you will, too. I'm not sure if this album would appeal to many outside of the hardcore ELO fanbase, but that's just their loss, huh?

So thank you Ben for recommending this album, and I hope this review rights the horrible ways I have wronged you in the past. I also thank you for not requesting another comic review, which I am sure would have turned out horrible (not because of you - because of ME). That goes for anybody who may request a review from me in the future: do not ask for more comic reviews, ever, please. Not that you would anyway.

So let's end this with the video for "Twilight," full of all those early-80's lightshow effects you all love so much.

Album Review: "Live At The Olympia" by R.E.M.

2009-11-26T17:33:00.004-05:00

pretty sure Stipe stopped wearing that stupid facepaint for these shows

Oh hey! Today is Thanksgiving in these United States! I hope most of you have enjoyed your turkey and stuffing and gravy and naptime. To celebrate this holiday of thanks I will go ahead and write about a band that I have written about many times before and has nothing to do with Thanksgiving: R.E.M.

R.E.M. are one of my favorite bands ever. I have made this pretty obvious in the past, but it is worth repeating. They are a band that cuts me deep, you see. So when I heard they were putting out a double-disc live album, one that was getting more-than-decent reviews, I figured it was worth a shot. And not only was I not disappointed - I was enthralled. I mean, I expected quality, but I did not expect this much quality. For a huge R.E.M. fan like myself, it is a special treat.

Perhaps some context is necessary. R.E.M., surprisingly enough, have issued only two official live albums in their entire 25+ year existence - and they've both been released only in the past couple years. The first one, R.E.M. Live, came out in '07 and focused on a few 2005 shows in support of Around the Sun, quite possibly the least exciting R.E.M. album ever released. And the tracklisting bore this out: not only was Sun the most represented album there with a whopping six tracks, but most of the other songs were the usual, predictable hits (a little "Losing My Religion" here, a little "Everybody Hurts" there) and questionable album cuts (like "So Fast So Numb," a decent but middling selection from the otherwise lovely New Adventures In Hi Fi, and "I Took Your Name" from the always-bleghh Monster). As for their classic I.R.S. albums, "Cuyahoga" was the only out-of-nowhere choice there; otherwise, they were barely represented. The band sounded OK, but the album was nothing that was going to bring anybody back to the R.E.M. fold after almost a decade of mediocre albums. If anything, the band sounded more out of touch than ever, trotting out their biggest hits without much gusto. It was, in a word, depressing.

Fast forward to the present. We now have R.E.M. Live At The Olympia, a two-disc 39-song set recorded during their "working rehearsal" shows in July 2007. At this point, Around The Sun had been thoroughly panned and ignored, and the band were determined to write better material for their next record in the face of rapidly thinning fan support. Most of those new songs are previewed here, and would eventually see official release on 2008's Accelerate, far and away their best album in a decade; so while it's the most represented record on here, it at least deserves to be, unlike Around the Sun. And as for their older songs, well, let me put it this way: besides Accelerate, the most represented albums on here are (in descending order) Reckoning, Fables Of The Reconstruction, and Chronic Town (FOUR songs from Chronic Town - that's one song shy of the whole thing). Coming from a band whose setlists have been painfully 90's-heavy since, well, the 90's, this is pretty remarkable; I mean, maybe Reckoning isn't a huge shock, but Fables Of The Reconstruction? With FIVE songs?! And so much of Chronic Town? These are albums most R.E.M. fans assumed they had just plain forgotten about - and maybe they had, considering how cautious they are in the introductions to each older song (especially on "Kohoutek" where Peter Buck goes as far as to say to Michael Stipe, "You should probably apologize to the audience before we play this - it could be bad").

The important thing is, though, that these old hits sound great. I mean, it doesn't hurt that they're great songs to begin with - the early-mid 80's were a good time for this band - but here they sound even more energetic than ever. I can't imagine songs like "Maps and Legends" and especially "1,000,000" sounding better; they play these older hits as if they were Lifes Rich Pageant or Accelerate songs, with more muscular guitarwork and front-and-center vocals (Michael Stipe is in really good voice the whole way through - just saying). It's really something, man. And as for the less-represented albums on here, the song choices are surprisingly top-notch. What would you expect from Document: maybe "The One I Love" and "It's The End Of the World"? Try "Welcome To The Occupation" and oh-my-lord-yes "Disturbance At The Heron House." Murmur gets "Sitting Still"(!!) and "West of the Fields"; Lifes Rich Pageant gets "Cuyahoga" and "These Days"; and the wrongs of R.E.M. Live are thankfully righted with the inclusion of "New Test Leper" and "Electrolite" from New Adventures, two of the honest-to-goodness most beautiful songs in the band's catalog. There are times when I almost feel like this setlist was tailor made for me.

But there could be some complaints. If you are more of a fan of R.E.M.'s more commercially successful late 80's-early 90's work, this record will sadden you deeply. There's nothing from Green or Out Of Time here, and only one song each from Automatic For The People and Monster. Speaking as a diehard Automatic fan, this is a little upsetting, since its one song here - "Drive" - was also on R.E.M. Live (still sounds great though, and at least it's not the horrible "rock" version they used to play on the Monster tour). But it's a testament to the quality of this live release that I honestly don't even notice they're missing most of the time. Those old hits are just so overwhelmingly well played that it just doesn't matter. And hey - "Circus Envy," from Monster, sounds a lot better here than it has any right to.

As for the newer songs, well. Accelerate's songs are still wonderful, even in their early incarnations (and I am reminded that "Living Well Is The Best Revenge," which kicks off the first disc, might be the best song they've recorded in the past decade). There's also a couple of unreleased tracks intended for Accelerate that didn't quite make the cut: the so-so rocker "Staring Down The Barrel Of The Middle Distance" and the kinda-boring "On The Fly" which finds the band still grappling with the dull-as-nails Around The Sun sound. And speaking of that album, "The Worst Joke Ever" is on here, and isn't much more exciting than the album version. "I've Been High" from Reveal fares a little better - definitely a pretty song, but not a remarkable one. These are the only songs taken from their last few albums, however, and they stick out like a sore thumb (they are literally the SLOWEST SONGS EVER WRITTEN). It just goes to show how eager they were back in the post-Sun fallout to reconnect with the sound that made them great. Listening to this show all the way though, it is easy to see why Accelerate turned out so damn good.

Oh sure, you could trifle a bit with the song choices (as I just did). You could even think to yourself, "hey, maybe these live songs sound a little TOO good to not have been meticulously overdubbed," but then you would just be a nagging nelly, wouldn't you? Honestly, if you are an R.E.M. fan of any stripe, this is essential listening - ESPECIALLY if you fell off the wagon after Bill Berry left and haven't even bothered giving Accelerate a chance. This one, unlike the last live album, will convince you. This release reminds me happily of when I saw these guys live last year, just being shocked at how re-energized, charismatic, and entertaining they were. And hey, they brought out "Ignoreland" and "Find The River" for that show, so I'll excuse their exclusion of Automatic tracks on here for now. Consider us even, band I love so dearly!!

I'll end this with a couple videos for you to see: one from one of the Dublin rehearsals, with them playing "Romance," a B-side they hadn't played in about twenty years. (Stipe is reading from a lyric sheet, which I'm sure he had to do for most of these old songs.):

Also as a bonus, and old live version of one of my favorite Out of Time tracks, "Half A World Away" (which, in a perfect world, would be on this thing):

Requested Review Two-Pack: "Strangeways, Here We Come" by the Smiths / "Viva Hate" by Morrissey

2009-11-22T15:23:00.004-05:00

morrissey you could have tried a little harder with that there coverart buddy.

Oh, hello there again! Yes it has been a while since I last updated. Chicago was a good time. I ate a hot dog with a large pickle on it and bought a wood painting of a cute kitty cat. I could tell you more but that would be boring! Instead let's review some music why don't we.

Today's requested albums come from good friend and blogfriend Paul Grigas. He's been a good buddy of mine for many years. This guy, what a guy!! Paul's a Smiths fan, so it is perfectly logical for him to have requested these records, one being the last Smiths album ever recorded and the other being Morrissey's first solo album a mere six months after their breakup. Since Paul happened to request two albums of me instead of just one, I - like any red-blooded American - got real lazy about listening to both albums enough to write a decent review, and sat on my laurels for a good long time. But hey! That era of darkness has passed, and here I am, ready and willing to discuss this Morrissey and these Smiths.

(although I've still only listened to these albums about one-and-a-half times each and I just want to get this over with, but that shouldn't worry you my friend)

Just to preface, my current status on the Smiths is as such: I first heard their so-called "magnum opus" The Queen Is Dead way back during my freshmen year of college, and I pretty much fell in love with it. And unlike other albums I adored from that period that had already fallen to the wayside by the time I hit nineteen (sorry Oasis), The Queen Is Dead still sounds great to me. I will always dig that crazy Johnny Marr wah-wah guitar on the title track, those high-pitched "Ann Coates" backing vocals on "Bigmouth Strikes Again," and the over-the-top romantic fatalism of "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out." It's just an album with a lot of good songs on it! Admittedly, I also picked up Hatful of Hollow shortly after Queen enchanted me and I just couldn't get into it, which began a solid three-year period of me not listening to the Smiths much at all. Until right now, of course!

It is nice to hear that Strangeways, the album directly proceeding Queen, continues the Smiths' then-current trend of writing a bunch of catchy, mostly-rockin' tunes. Right from the loopy opener "A Rush And A Push And The Land Is Ours," you can pretty much deduce that the rest of the album is going to be a good time. How about that grunty Morrissey vocal delivery? "ARRRRRRRush!" Yeah, man. And how about that riffin' guitar on "I Started Something I Couldn't Finish"? Or that background harmonica all over the "Vicar In A Tutu"-esque "Death At One's Elbow"? Yeah, yes. These guys got a good sound. The production's not too different in comparison to Queen, but it's a little fuller, with more strings and horns and maybe even some synth keyboards in the background (never pushed up front, of course - this is the Smiths after all).

Here are my favorite songs on Strangeways: "Girlfriend In A Coma," in just about two minutes, manages to be funny ("Do you really think she'll pull through?"), creepy ("There are times when I could have strangled her"), and - somehow - endearingly bittersweet ("Let me whisper my last goodbyes, I know it's serious") all at once. And it's catchy, too! "Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before" is typically well-written Smiths pop-rock; "Paint A Vulgar Picture" doubles as an entertaining critique of record companies' treatment of popular deceased musicians ("Re-issue, re-package, re-package / Re-evaluate the songs / Double-pack with a photograph / extra track (and a tacky badge)") and of their obsessive fans ("No, they cannot hurt you, my darling / They cannot touch you now / But me and my 'true love' / Will never meet again"); and "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me" nearly tops "There Is A Light" in terms of sheer romantic tragedy. "Unhappy Birthday," too, is a dependable Morrissey kiss-off. While I can't say I like Strangeways more than Queen - the latter, in my eyes, still nails the whole "Smiths" formula better than anything else I've heard - I will gladly file it into the "Smiths Albums Sean Rose Enjoys" portfolio and just leave it at that. (I can see myself listening to it more than once in my leisurely time - this is a plus.)

Viva Hate, Morrissey's 1988 debut solo album, doesn't quite hit me like Strangeways. It's a little more mellow, with a little more emphasis on Morrissey's vocals (obviously) and - at the same time - is a little less gripping and melodic. For me, at least. To be honest, the sound of Viva isn't a huge departure from Strangeways (which isn't too surprising, considering how close those two releases are) but definitely downplays the guitar-driven energy of the last couple Smiths releases (the lack of Johnny Marr, while completely expected, is a bit of a drag). To be honest, I have listened through Viva Hate almost three times now and I have trouble remembering a lot of the songs!! This is not good, for a man like me.

But maybe that isn't fair. Here are some Viva Hate songs I love: "Suedehead," oh man, that song is beautiful. What a pretty guitar! Sounds like the Cure or something. "Hairdresser On Fire" has that lovely piano line and epic melody - that's a good one. "I Don't Mind If You Forget Me" is a Smiths-worthy pop-rock tune - energetic, funny, and complete with a synth-keyboard intro! Who saw that one coming? "Dial-A-Cliche" and "Margaret On The Guillotine" are both very graceful album closers (despite the latter's caustic anti-Thatcher lyrics) and "Atsatian Cousin," unlike the rest of the album, is even more guitar-heavy and bitter than the Smiths ever could have been.

I can't think of any songs on Viva Hate that I flat-out disliked, but after hearing Strangeways it just doesn't "get" me as much. It's a slower, longer, and more morose album than Strangeways so maybe it's just that. Or maybe I'm just being unfair; these reviews are all based on first impressions, after all. I liked Strangeways a lot more upon first listen, and as such I've been listening to it more. I can't help it, man!! Maybe Viva Hate will rub off on me the next time I listen to it, whenever that may be. Until then, I will stick to the Smiths.

Really, I have never been a huge Smiths fan but Strangeways has done a lot to pique my interest. Maybe I should give their earlier stuff another shot? It's worth it. I will say this - diehard fans of the Smiths would do well to seek out this Viva Hate record, as I am sure they would enjoy it a lot more than I have. As a guy who is not that big into Morrissey, I will have to settle for only midly enjoying it. But you don't have to be me! You don't have to settle!!

I am excited, though. My next requested review is going to be a lot of fun - one I have been looking forward to for many months. Look out for it. Also there is a new R.E.M. live album out that is really something special, you'll probably be hearing a lot about that too. Until then, I hope Paul Grigas will sleep well tonight, knowing that his absolute best friend has approved of his musical tastes!! (You know it, Paul. You do.)

The Obligatory Apology Post, Vol. 4

2009-10-30T13:12:00.002-04:00

So yes, I finished that Flaming Lips review like two weeks ago and fully intended on getting back to my requested reviews the following week. Of course, fate intervened and the AV cable to my shitty Toshiba laptop snapped in half, and with no other cord available (and absolutely no desire to spend I don't know how much money on a new one) I was incapable of listening to any of the requested albums I downloaded some weeks ago - and, obviously, incapable of writing any new reviews.

But then, you know, I finally took action and bought a new computer. And for the past week, despite my iTunes library being completely disorganized, I have been perfectly capable of re-downloading the albums I was going to review this week, listening to them, and - you know - REVIEWING them. But this time, laziness (and Playstation RPGs) intervened, and now here I sit, with no review written. In most cases, this would be the perfect time for me to crack my knuckles, paint over every window in the house with the blackest of black paints, and get some serious work done.

Yes, this would all happen if I were not going to Chicago for a week. Starting tomorrow. And my laptop is not coming with me.

:)

So yeah. No reviews for a little while. But don't fret! While I am gone, I will be listening to music in my leisurely time. So when I am not getting horribly drunk or seeing many Chicago sites or kickin' back with President Barack Obama (he still lives there I am sure) I will be listening to music and working out how I feel about it. Then I will come back in a week and write all those feelings down, just for you!

So have an nice week without me. You deserve one. In the meantime, please enjoy these videos, currently the best videos that are on the internet right now.

Album Review: "Embryonic" by the Flaming Lips

2009-10-16T13:53:00.005-04:00

MUAHHHHHH (give it a kiss)

So yes, once again I am delaying my next requested review, which I will take care of next week. If this upsets or surprises you, I don't care because there is a new Flaming Lips album out and if I don't review it soon I am going to drive myself insane!

In all honesty, I have a lot of trouble reviewing records by bands that are very important to me; so many thoughts and emotions bubble to the surface and I want to get them all in my review, but I never do. As such, I never feel that I've said enough and in the end I am not satisfied. So, in that regard, it doesn't get much worse than reviewing Embryonic - not just a new record by the Flaming Lips, a band I consider one of my long-time personal favorites, but one that is seventy minutes long and is easily one of the densest and most complex records they've ever released.

In other words, there is no way I am going to be happy with this review. There are so many things that I am going to forget to say. So I might as well just go with the flow.

I won't bore you with my extensively personal experiences with the Flaming Lips' music. I'll save that for another time. Anybody who knows me well, however, knows that I have been a big fan for a while. And while - not unlike another favorite band of mine, XTC - I have barely ever written about them in this blog, they are written into its very DNA: their 2006 record At War With The Mystics was the first record I ever reviewed in this thing a good three and a half years ago. And it is funny, considering how enthusiastic I am in that review about an album that, in retrospect, did not thrill me - and one that I didn't listen to all that much following its release. Chalk it up to being a younger man in the midst of a year-long rush of euphoric Flaming Lips fandom, I guess, but even back then my reservations about the album - which would become more explicit the more I listened to it - would pop up more than once, like in my summary of "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song":

"My problem here - it's the Flaming Lips trying to sound weird, which they really don't need to do. You're already fucking weird, Wayne. You know it!! You don't need throw random arcade noises and "funny" stuff like that in a song like this to make it sound weird. You couldn't be normal if you tried. But still, it's a cool song that doesn't quite represent the rest of the album."

I was being polite here, because I did not want to admit that I was not satisfied with a Flaming Lips song. Until "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song", I felt that the Flaming Lips could do me no wrong, and I wanted to maintain that excitement. But for a moment there, I think I hit the nail on the head: The Flaming Lips, all of the sudden, were trying way too hard to sound weird. And while I stand by that statement, in retrospect I feel the problem ran even deeper than that: worse than weirdness, the Lips were trying to sound cutesy, bubbly, or that dreaded descriptor: quirky. It was indie-quirk pandering, to put it bluntly, and even now it bugs me. It bugged me then, too, but I didn't really know how to put it into words. With Mystics, it felt as if the Flaming Lips - a band known for taking risks and defying audience expectations with each new album - were pandering to a group of people who viewed the Flaming Lips as cutesy, uplifting bunnysuit-wearing happymen who wrote songs for Spongebob Squarepants movie soundtracks. It did not make me happy. (Nothing against Spongebob, but y'know.)

At War With The Mystics did bother me, but - and it's obvious from that review - I still liked it a lot. Because, well, it's not that bad of an album! The whole "we are the crazy quirky Flaming Lips and welcome to our sunshine-and-balloons factory" attitude definitely kills some of the songs' impact ("Yeah Yeah Yeah" and "Free Radicals" being the obvious examples), but the songs that cash in on the Lips' trademark beauty are typically wonderful: "Cosmic Autumn Rebellion," "Vein of Stars," "Sound of Failure," etc. But the one song that still stands out to me - and to a lot of people, I think - is "Pompeii Am Gotterdammerung," an echo-laden bass-driven prog epic that is still one of the most exciting tracks they've ever recorded. That song, unlike everything else on Mystics, sounded like the Lips pushing themselves into something new and great, and as I said at the time: "If the Lips ever did a straight-up prog-rock album in the style of this track I have no doubt it would be fucking awesome."

And so. Now we have Embryonic. I could get all prophetic and congratulate my 18-year-old self for accurately predicting what the next Flaming Lips release would sound like, but that would not be right because none of Embryonic's eighteen tracks sound a whit like "Pompeii." To be honest, in terms of attitude and structure, Embryonic has no obvious forebear in anything the Flaming Lips have released previously, which I think is giving people a lot of trouble. Most Embryonic reviews I've read have people attempting to compare it to some other album they've done, or - more frequently - touting it as a "back to basics" album, returning to the reckless spirit of pre-Soft Bulletin releases like Telepathic Surgery or Priest Driven Ambulance. This confuses me, because let me tell you, Embryonic sounds nothing like their older stuff. Their 80's records were more psychedelic and fractured, to be sure, but even their darkest and noisiest moments were always leavened with pretty acoustic guitar ballads and a goofy sense of humor (why else would Priest Driven Ambulance end with a sincere, noisy cover of "What A Wonderful World"?). If the Flaming Lips wanted to record a "back to basics" album, they would have ditched the widescreen studio production, returned to the two-guitars-bass-and-drums setup of their early 90's work, and let the guitar noise rip. And that's not what they do on Embryonic.

So why are people so quick to compare Embryonic to those records? Well, you see, Embryonic is a dark record - much darker than the musical therapy of The Soft Bulletin, the brooding yet lovely Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, and especially the in-your-face cutesiness of Mystics. So, of course, the most obvious conclusion people can make is that Embryonic is a return to their pre-Soft Bulletin records, a knee-jerk reaction that simply isn't true. Embryonic is the darker than those albums too, and is just about the darkest record the Flaming Lips have ever released.

Now, I should clarify that statement (and I should also start talking about what Embryonic sounds like considering I've spent too many paragraphs talking about what it doesn't). The Flaming Lips, even in their most uplifting moments, have always had a dark undercurrent to their work - a recognition of mortality, the inevitability of life and death and whathaveyou. Clouds Taste Metallic, one of their happiest albums, featured a song called "Evil Will Prevail." Soft Bulletin, probably the most uplifting thing they could possibly record, ends with a song called "Feeling Yourself Disintegrate." Yoshimi's "Do You Realize??," the other most uplifting thing they could possibly record, has really fucking depressing lyrics (not to mention that it is followed up by the defeatist anthem "All We Have Is Now"). But these records, despite the aforementioned moments of depression, offered an answer to life's worries: "Hey man, it's okay! Life can be tough - real tough - but everybody's gotta go through it! We'll all go through it together, and we'll all be okay!"

Embryonic doesn't have these answers. It is not designed to give you a hug and make you feel OK - instead it buries you deep, deep down into the murk and never pulls you back up. The only song on here where Wayne Coyne sings like the Wayne Coyne we all know and love is "Evil," a song that could probably fit comfortably on Yoshimi with its warm electronics. But it's a trick, see - "Evil"' leads directly into "Aquarius Sabotage," which immediately attacks the listener with manic drums, screeching guitars and an unsettling bass line. "The Impulse," which might have been one of the prettiest songs on the album, is marred by Wayne's creepy vocoder-processed vocals. "I Can Be A Frog," which could have been a cutesy joke song on Mystics, features vintage horror-movie backing music and Karen O making a bunch of creepy animal noises. While Embryonic is just as lavishly produced as their last few albums, it exploits their sonic palette in a much darker way, making every potentially peaceful moment sound sinister, unsettling, and uncomfortable. There is no "Do You Realize??"-esque moment of release - it's all downhill.

And Embryonic's darkest tracks? Hoo-ee. "See The Leaves," with its overpowered drums, bendy bassline and unwelcoming Wayne Coyne vocals, has to be one of the darkest songs they've ever done. You remember Mystics' "My Cosmic Autumn Rebellion"? With Wayne warning against those pessimistic folks who "see the sun go down, but don't see it rise"? Well, let's sample some lyrics from "See The Leaves": "See the leaves / They're dying again / See the moth / It's flying again / See the grass / It's dying again / See the sun / It's trying again." Well well. So much for optimism! The jerky psych-rock album opener "Convinced Of The Hex" continues this darker trend, as does the bass-driven tribal chanting of "Sagittarius Silver Announcement" (is that Wayne singing lead on that, by the way? If it is, Jesusss) and the formless murk of "Gemini Syringes," featuring echo-laden Wayne vocals and a monologue from German mathematician Thorsten Wormann on what I assume to be the nature of the universe. At times these songs can feel formless, murky, and incomprehensible, but they all manage to sound cohesive in the context of the album, which is no small feat.

I'll be honest - upon first listen, Embryonic was just so downtrodden and long that I did not manage to get all the way through it. To be fair, I was just streaming it casually off of Colbernation.com, and it was like 3 in the morning, so the circumstances were not ideal. But it does show that Embryonic is an album that requires a few listens, 'cause there's a whole lot here to absorb, which might be a bit much if you're not a diehard fan. But when it comes right down to it - and forgive me for generalizing - Embryonic is just cool. It can be a little dark and draggy, yes, but it's all worth it for songs like the pulsating groover "Silver Trembling Hands," the epic power rock of "Worm Mountain" (featuring MGMT, apparently), or the remarkable album closer "Watching The Planets," one of their most apocalyptic songs to date. Considering that these guys are not getting any younger (or, in Wayne Coyne's case, pushing 50), it is great to hear them still pushing the boundaries of their music and trying new things, at the risk of alienating the mainstream audience they have built up over the past decade. Mystics had me worried that they were running out of ideas; Embryonic, thankfully, has proven me wrong.

In preparation for this review I have spent the last few weeks listening through every Flaming Lips album since 1986's Hear It Is (with the exception of Zaireeka, which I will get to soon I am sure). I was a nice reminder that I seriously love this band, and that Mystics is the only record they have put out that leaves a bad taste in my mouth - and even that one is pretty good. I am happy about Embryonic's critical success but I am a little upset that people are using it as an opportunity to diss on Bulletin and Yoshimi in the same breath as Mystics, which has happened in a few reviews I've read. Let's get this straight: The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots are wonderful albums that everybody liked upon their release, and for good reason. Embryonic is practically as good as they are but for completely different reasons. What I'm trying to say is, if you're going to diss on a recent Flaming Lips album, make it Mystics. That one actually deserves it.

One last thought before I finish this and never ever talk about the Flaming Lips again until their next album comes out - and maybe this will give you a better impression of what this album is like, considering that I have done a less than adequate job of describing these songs to you. I was a little worried before I heard Embryonic, 'cause you know, their last album was Mystics and I wasn't sure what it would sound like. And what worried me especially was the fact that there were guest artists on a Flaming Lips album! That ain't never happened before! I mean - two songs with Karen O? I half-expected some lame quirky duet between her and Wayne to clog up the proceedings here. But man - if you're going to have guest artists on an album, you gotta do it like Embryonic. Karen O's vocals just add a creepy texture to her songs rather than overpowering them, and MGMT's appearance on "Worm Mountain" just make it even more brutal. Hell, you can barely tell they're there, but they make the songs cooler!! It's a good album, guys. Check it out.

So that'll do it. Next week, I promise, will be a requested review - two albums in one, actually! So check that out. As for the Flaming Lips, I may end up doing a career-summary post for them sometime in the future, considering I just sat through all of their albums and have so so many thoughts about them. I'll probably do what I did for that Radiohead overview from like a year ago and just recommend a bunch of tracks from each album that I like. Sound good to you? Sounds good to me.

(Also a quick note: if you have just listened through Embryonic and are wondering out-loud to yourself "Jeez, where CAN these guys go from here??," the answer may surprise you.)

Album Review: "Walk Away Renee/Pretty Ballerina" by the Left Banke

2009-10-09T16:12:00.005-04:00

literally the least rowdy group of teenagers you will ever meet

Sad news this week: due to a computer hiccup, I do not have access to my music, and as such I do not have access to the requested albums I was planning on reviewing this week: the Smiths' Strangeways Here We Come and Morrissey's Viva Hate, both requested by my good friend Paul Grigas. Tragedy! Fortunately, other good friend Emily Vasseur has adopted my shitty laptop and I will probably be able to get it back without erasing my hard drive. So this is a good thing. Whenever I do get it back, I promise you that requested review post haste.

In the meantime, let's talk about another record that has enchanted me over the past couple months - Walk Away Renee/Pretty Ballerina by the Left Banke, which despite its misleading title actually has more than two songs on it! There are nine other tracks besides those two classics and they are mostly all good. If you don't know anything about the Left Banke, they were a 60's pop-rock group mostly known for epitomizing the "baroque pop" genre - that his, pop music with a whole lot of harpsichord and strings thrown in there. At least, that's the Left Banke definition. Keep in mind that this music sounds little to nothing like the Beach Boys/Brian Wilson style of baroque pop recorded around the same time ('66-'67), with super-complicated song structures and vocal arrangements and whathaveyou. The songs on Walk Away Renee aren't even heavily influenced by classical music, at least not to me - they're just pop songs with a whole lotta harpischord.

Thankfully, they're really good pop songs! Great, even. "Walk Away Renee," obviously, is the classic and the biggest hit, good enough to be covered - with equal greatness - by the Four Tops a couple years later. "Pretty Ballerina" is the other hit, one of their prettiest and most alluring songs, defined by Steve Martin Caro's plaintive vocals. There's also "She May Call You Up Tonight," my favorite Left Banke song and one of the best songs ever. It's a wonderful, catchy pop tune driven by a jazzy piano - like Vince Guaraldi or something. If nobody sang on it it would sound like "Linus and Lucy" or something. But man, the vocals are so CATCHY! It's a great song, and the entire reason I got into the Left Banke in the first place, thanks to Adam Spektor playing it on his radio show.

It's not very "baroque," though. Actually, a lot of songs on here aren't baroque in the slightest! It's funny, 'cause if you listen to songs like "Barterers And Their Wives" or "Shadows Breaking Over My Head" these guys sound like the most polite and reserved rock band that has ever existed. But THEN, you've got songs like "Evening Gown," a peppy harpsichord-driven rocker (??) with Steve Martin Caro almost YELPING his vocals, and "Lazy Day" which features an actual FUZZ GUITAR! Like some kind of NUGGET or something! But that's not even the weirdest part - "What Do You Know"? It's a COUNTRY ROCK SONG. Like "What Goes On" by the Beatles or something. Twangy guitars and everything. Lead guy sings like Ringo Starr all the sudden. HOW IS THIS BAROQUE IN ANY WAY YOU IDIOTS.

So yeah, the random stylistic diversions are unusual and unexpected, ESPECIALLY if you've only heard "Walk Away Renee" and "Pretty Ballerina." They aren't bad songs, though. And the ones that aren't whacky diversions are simply beautiful songs that deserve all of this world's love. Mysterious, subdued, yet accessible pop music - it's all here!

Oh, one more thing about the Left Banke. Michael Brown, their pianist and main songwriter - the guy that wrote every great song on here - was sixteen at the time. Sixteen!! Man, what were you and I doing at age sixteen? I was playing "Enter The Matrix" on Gamecube and writing Mega Man X fanfiction. This guy was writing "Walk Away Renee." Sheesh.

That's it for now. I am waiting for my comptuer to return to me, and once that happens you will be getting two things: 1) more requested reviews, and 2) a review of the new Flaming Lips album! Oh man it's a good one! I am actually gonna wait on the latter there until the album is officially released, just to be fair and decent, but that's coming up pretty soon anyway so I am not worried. Enjoy your weekend!

Requested Review: "Black Sea" by XTC

2009-10-03T14:18:00.007-04:00

it is an album full of whaling chanties (or is "chanties" not a word?)

Ohhh folks. We've got a scorcher for you tonight. This here review has been requested by none other than a living legend - my freshmen year college roommate Nick Hennessey!

Now, OK. In a perfect world Mr. Hennessey would need absolutely no introduction - you would simply see his name and nod to yourself in instant approval, a Pavlovian response to his inimitable genius. But sadly, we do not live in this world, so I will explain. I lived with Mr. Hennessey for a year, and what a trailblazing year that was. Before college I was a nascent waif of an eighteen-year-old, with my only known methods of "partying down" being reading Final Fantasy VIII guidebooks and drinking Mountain Dew Code Red by the liter. A year with Mr. Hennessey changed all that - and when he wasn't busy introducing me to the pleasures of hard liquor and fast women, he was blasting great music into my face every morning noon and night, whether I was prepared for it (read: awake) or not. The list of bands he turned me on to that year - most of which are now among my favorites - is pretty startling: you got your Undertones, your Replacements, your Wilco, your Beach Boys, your Smiths, your Television... the list goes on and on. And it wasn't just music - the guy showed me the British Office for the first time, too. Yes, that British Office! The one that is like my favorite show now. Mr. Hennessey's taste surely knows no bounds.

So yes. Along with close high school bros Luke Coryea and Adam Spektor, Nick Hennessey is one of those indispensible "threw a lot of great music at me all at once when I was a teen'ger" sorts of dudes. A solid guy. And yes, the album he requested for me tonight is one by none other than the biggest band he got me into during my freshmen year - XTC! One of my favorite bands ever thanks to him, and unusually enough, a band that I have not discussed in this blog even a single time. And I have been writing in this blog for, what, almost four years now? Yikes.

Now, mind you, I had been planning on reviewing an XTC album here for quite a long while - my all-time favorite, 1999's Apple Venus Vol. 1. However, the album Mr. Hennessey has requested of me is 1981's Black Sea, a completely different sort of album by what might as well be a completely different sort of band. While Apple Venus is a studied, graceful record by a band in their waning days, Black Sea is a twisted, guitar-driven slice of kinda-sorta-New Wave with a kooky lead singer. It's one the last albums the band made before lead singer/songwriter Andy Partridge developed some unfortunate stagefright and kept the band in the studio for, you know, the rest of their career. So here on this album you've got the sound of a live band: pounding drums, screechy guitars, forceful vocals, and so forth (I guess there's a bass in there too). At this point XTC were definitely more Devo-sounding than the Beatles/Beach Boys pastiches of their later work - nearly every song here sounds like, you know, something is horribly wrong. But in a good way!

There are differences in vocal delivery as well. Andy Partridge, in comparison with his more pop-friendly late 80s/early 90s vocals, sounds straight-up frightened in these songs, his voice teeming with wild teenage awkwardness. At this point in his career he did not feel the need to make his voice sound "accessible" in any sort of way - he just sounded like a yelping, nervous man, and he was all the better for it. Then there is the George Harrison-esque Colin Moulding, who at this point in his career had the exact same voice that he would have for the rest of his career, and was also all the better for it. He's a great vocal counterpoint; whereas Partridge sounds like he has something broken deep inside of him, Moulding sings like a nice, charming Britishman, no matter what song he is singing. "Generals and Majors" is an obvious war satire, to be sure, but with Moulding's straight-up adorable vocals it doesn't feel bitter in the slightest. Just fun!! Hey, that's XTC.

Enough with this. Let's talk about the songs, because those are the most important things on a record album, are they not? The first two tracks here are two of the best two XTC tracks ever, all two of them. Andy's screechy tune "Respectable Street" and Colin's aforementioned jaunty "Generals and Majors" both border on experimental dub-influenced New Wave, but are really just great pop songs: why else would the former include those "Oooh-eyy-oooh-eyy-oooh-oooh!"s in the verses, and why else would the latter feature one of the catchiest little guitar riffs EVER?? Yes, yes the answer is obvious. These guys were raised on the finest 60's pop, and it shows. It doesn't let up from there - if anything, things get a little more exploratory, and a little weirder. You've got Andy's hammy vocal delivery in "Living Through Another Cuba," those loopy phaser effects in the piano-driven "Rocket From A Bottle," more super-catchy poppiness with the classic "Towers of London" - the fun does not end, not ever! And while pretty much every other song on here is written by Partridge, the one other track Moulding has - the cutesy, riff-driven "Love At First Sight" - is a real keeper that you'll want to hear. These guys are good.

Oh, no no, I'm not done describing songs yet! "Sgt. Rock (Is Going To Help Me)" is a goofy little song that I used to not like much but has grown on me over the years. It popped up in Hot Fuzz and man that was a good movie, wasn't it? And this is a good song, featured in that good movie. Admittedly "No Language In Our Lungs" and "Burning With Optimism's Flames" have never been my absolute favorites but I like them pretty good. Oh, and man, how about those two atmospheric tracks that do not sound like conventional songs at all?? I used to not like those much either but they sound so much cooler to me now. To be fair, "Paper And Iron (Notes And Coins)" isn't that atmospheric, but it does start off with that echoey guitar effect that always makes me swoon like a man. And then there's the album closer "Travels in Nihilon" which I just now realized is like the neatest album closer ever. Those tribal drums! That uncharacteristically creepy Andy Partridge vocal delivery! Those vocal-echoing guitars in the chorus! The fact that it doesn't get boring even a little bit for a full seven minutes!! Oh maaan. That's a good song. Sadly, after '82 they would never write another song like it ever, and where does that leave us? (Not a rhetorical question. I need the answer to this.)

I think a lot of people might have trouble with Andy Partridge's voice. If there was any point of contention anybody could have with early XTC, it is that. He just doesn't have a pretty voice! Not yet, anyway. Even when they write a pretty tune, he does not want to sing it in a pretty way. For me, that makes it sound a whole lot more interesting, but for others it might just sound ugly (and it does kinda sound ugly to me too, but hey, I'm a forgiving man). And sometimes he can get a little hammy or over-wordy. But what can you do? The guy was a great songwriter. I don't know if I can recommend this as a "First XTC Album" - you might want to ease in with their poppier late 80's stuff, I don't know. I don't know how you feel about all this, readers. I don't know what music you like. If you're an ELO fan, check out their later stuff. If you're a Talking Heads fan, check out this one. It 'twill not disappoint.

Thank you for reading, True Believers. As a gift for you, I will present you with nary a slice of Nick Hennessey's genius: the classic "Fresh Lettuce," performed as his rappin' alter-ego Pauley Boom:

Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold.

Requested Review: "Jupiter One" by Jupiter One

2009-09-24T14:35:00.002-04:00

sci-fi!!

Friend and blogreader Dan Yepes has done America a great service through this album request. Because, when it comes right down to it, I think he has been the only person to request an actual modern-day indie rock album! Perish the thought! Looking through all the requests I've gotten, most seem to run the gamut of classic rock to jokey party rap, but nothing I could classify as "hip" with today's indie-rock crowd. That Songs: Ohia review came kinda close, but jeez that album came out when Marcy Playground were still a hot commodity. Honestly, I expected a whole slew of indie rock from you guys, but I haven't seen that much! Oh well. Looks like I'll have to focus all of my unabashed hatred of all things indie into one article. Sorry, Jupiter One - you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Aha. No, I'm generalizing. I don't hate modern day indie rock - I just feel that most of it is, more often than not, on the "Last Train to Dullsville" (heheheh, ya like that?!?). So I guess it's not too surprising that the Jupiter One album by so-called indie-rock group Jupiter One does not do all that much for me in the "excitement" department. See, before I started listening to them I somehow got the impression that I would be listening to an electro-pop group, and the opener "Intro for Ani Endorda" confirmed this suspicion. But then, I heard "Countdown" and realized that what we REALLY have here is your basic modern indie rock group: clean, post-punk-influenced pop rock with an 80's dance bend, fronted by a disaffected singer who sounds like Alex Kapranos without the spunk. Your Interpol here, your Coldplay there. Sometimes the lead guy sounds like Sting, actually - usually in the chorus of each song, where he decides to sing a slightly more "uppity" voice. But it's not a common occurrence.

Okay - and I mean it this time - since when does this count as indie rock? I mean, I don't want to belabor the point, but none of this music sounds the least bit "indie." It's cleanly produced dance-pop-rock with electronic flourishes. That's it. Is it "indie" 'cause the singer doesn't sound like he's enjoying himself even the slightest bit? Is that it? How about the occasional faux-Britishness? That too? Or maybe I'm focusing on the wrong thing here. Maybe they're on an indie label? So were the Offspring. I don't think that counts. You know - yeah, I'm not going to talk about this. I'll stop here. Because, in the end, who gives a shit? People have been arguing about the "indie rock" label for decades now, and it's only gotten worse in the past five or six years. So I'll do you (and myself) a favor and move on amicably.

(pshh. "indie rock." PSHHH)

My problem with Jupiter One isn't that they're "indie." It's that they don't seem to be doing anything new or interesting. Now, I'll clarify - I don't think that a band needs to be shockingly original in order to be good. If that were the case, there would not be much room for Hanson in my heart, would there?? But there needs to be some distinction - some guts, some verve - that makes an otherwise run-of-the-mill band stand out from its peers, and Jupiter One doesn't have it. When I can't listen to a band without immediately thinking of every other band from the past five years that sounds exactly like them, then something is wrong.

It's a little upsetting. I don't want to hate, you know? Despite the potentially inflammatory title of this blog (which I came up with on a whim like three years ago and would LOVE to change, but at this point it's kinda stuck hasn't it), I don't enjoy ranting about bands I don't care about and never listen to. Once in a while it is definitely therapeutic for me to get angry about a band I don't like, but, y'know - not when it's public. When I type out my "I hate indie rock for this and that reason" schpiel, not only is it never as effective and "cutting" as I picture it to be in my head, but it just comes across as petty and mean. Which it is of course.

So here is what I will say about Jupiter One. They do not excite me the least bit. Something I do like about them: once in a while they will write an eerily hooky chorus that makes me say "oooh." Like "Moon Won't Turn" - kind of a "meh" song, but with a spacey, harmonized chorus that reminds me of early 70's Pink Floyd. And once in a while, they'll pull out a surprisingly fun jaunty song - "Unglued," for instance, a song I think I would enjoy much more if someone else sang it. But then, you know, the annoying parts stand out too - like the BLUGGH vocals in "Wrong Line," or the overuse of that crappy synth-violin sound you hear bands like the Killers use. It crops up on a few songs on here, and man I HATE it so so much. It just sounds so sterile. Good song: the closing track "Way To The Floating Hospital / The Miracle Of Flight," an ethereal piece of nigh-baroque pop, with harmonized vocals and a loopy electronic coda. "Oooooh" I say! "Bluhhhhh" to most of the rest of the album, though. There is just nothing to see here.

I'm sorry, Dan. I really wanted to like this one! I listened to it like three times hoping it would eventually become my favorite record, but that did not happen. As such, I must be moving on.

Final thoughts: I can see why people would like this album. It's well-produced, occasionally catchy, and features a cool "I-don't-give-a-shit-bout-nuthin-including-the-song-I-am-singing-right-now" vocalist. But it's not for me. In a word - and I guess, now that the decade's almost over, I am free to say this - this album is so 2000s.

Requested Review: "Outlandos d'Amour" by the Police

2009-09-16T21:40:00.011-04:00

it's french. i know because i am fluent in the language

Tonight's review from blogfriend Nick Stevens is a doozy, folks. And by "doozy" I mean "a really easy review of an album I really like by a band I already really like."

Let me explain. Mr. Stevens, like Mr. Coryea before him, gave me a few options for albums to review. One was Van Morrison's Astral Weeks, an album I love but one that I know just a little too well. Maybe the stuff of a future review, why not? Another was Cat Stevens' Teaser and the Firecat (or was it Tea For The Tillerman? I'm too lazy to look it up) but, y'know, I'm not always in the mood to "mellow out" with Mr. Yusuf Stevens. The last, of course, was the album you can see in the title of this post. And in the large album cover photo I am sure I have posted at the top of this page, with those three fresh young faces with unusually blotchy blond hair. I figured, by now, I've reviewed plenty of requested bands I don't know anything about - why not review a band I already know and really like, for once?

To be honest, though, the only Police album I had in my possession before Outlandos D'Amour was Zenyata Mondatta. It's a great album, but, you know - that was the only Police album I had. They had a lot of albums. What if I hated everything else they recorded? What if Zenyata was their only decent album and nobody bothered to tell me?!?

But of course, none of that is true. Outlandos is a really good album. I honestly don't have too much to say about it 'cause - c'mon, in the Police. C'monnnnn. So what I will do is take the same cop-out route I took for the Appetite For Destruction review and go over my thoughts point-by-point. This will be easier for you to read - and more importantly, easier for me to write, because I am lazy and tired.

- This was the Police's debut album, from '78. As such, they sound like a group of peppy young bucks playing punk-pop new wave on the fan-tahstic opening track "Next To You." It is a song that will get you on your feet and make you groove 'round and 'round!! Then "So Lonely" comes on and you're realizing that you're actually listening to a reggae band. WAAAAT

- Speaking of that "new wave" label: I would only apply it to a few songs. The rest are reggae-influenced punk-pop, but not quite "new wave." The new-wavey songs are the aforementioned "Next To You," "Peanuts," "Can't Stand Losing You," "Truth Hits Everybody," "Born In The 50's," and "Be My Girl - Sally."

- Actually, that's most of the songs on here, isn't it? Shit.

- "Roxanne" is on here too, but I'll be fucked if I'm gonna talk about that one. WHAT COULD I POSSIBLY SAY??

- "Born In The 50's". Let's talk about that one. This track in particular gets singled out as one of the weakest on the album, at least in most of the reviews I've read. It's not a bad song - musically, I enjoy it - but I will admit that the lyrics are a little preachy, and Sting's raspy vocal delivery in the verses makes it sound like he's trying too hard to be righteously angry. Also - and get ready to be shocked, readers, 'cuz I just found this out - Police guitarist Andy Summers wasn't "BORN! BORN IN THE FIIIIIFTAYES" at all! In fact, he was born in 1942. 1942. To put that in context, the man is the same age as Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson, and about a full decade older than the rest of the band. And here he is, the old fussbudget lost in a sea of swarthy young punks. In fact, before he joined the Police (and, coincidentally enough, when he was around the same age that the rest of the band were on this album) he played on one of those later-period psychedelic Animals albums, his only appearance on record before Outlandos. Fun facts all around!!

- Speaking of Mr. Summers, his out-of-fucking-nowhere monologue in the middle of "Be My Girl - Sally," which seems to be a whimsical tale about marrying a blow-up-doll, has to be one of the most un-Police-like moments I have ever heard on a Police album. What is wrong with you, you randy old hippie?? The rest of the song is pretty basic pop rock, but made a hundred times more interesting by that interlude.

- "Can't Stand Losing You" is not only catchy as heck, but it's funny! REAL funny. Something tells me they lost their sense of humor right quick once they became more and more popular, but who am I to say?

- I definitely prefer the poppier, more rockin' numbers to the slower reggae stuff. I mean, they do reggae just fine, but how can you deny that rock-solid pop songcraft?! You just can't. It does bother me a slight bit that it takes the album a little while to regain its momentum after the epic opener "Next To You" - after hearing such a fast-paced rocker, I expect (nay, DEMAND) more of the same! Goddamn you, Policemen, for being so diverse!!

- That's it. In all honesty, I just found out that the Flaming Lips' new album Embryonic is streaming on the Colbert Report site, and I am considering staying up for another hour tonight just to hear the whole thing. The stuff of a future review, I'm sure!

- Shit, I'll review it right now, if you want me to. Right in the middle of a Police review, the new Flaming Lips album, reviewed in its entirety, track by track! Jeez, isn't that exciting and unexpected?? Never know what's gonna pop up in the well-renowned "WHAT IS THIS SHIT" music blog.

- No. No. I'm going to sleep.

- I'm not proofreading this.

-UPDATE 9/17/09: ...eh, alright, I'll proofread it.

A Post About The Small Faces (Why Not)

2009-09-06T16:18:00.005-04:00

the fuck

Hope everybody's been enjoying the requested reviews! I read through some of them and I think they have gone perfectly OK. If you haven't been particularly excited by the requested selections so far (I don't know why in God's name you wouldn't be excited by an LMFAO review, but then again I'm not you), no need to worry! We're not even halfway through the requests I've gotten and I've saved some of the more compelling ones for last. (By that I mean, I'm doing them in the order that people actually requested them and I'm not actually choosing the order myself, so apparently I am a complete and total liar who should not be listened to.) So sit tight and you will receive more of them in due time.

It is honestly shocking to me that I last asked for these requests way back in early July. That's almost two months ago! And in that time I've listened to all these other records of my own choosing that I've listened to more than the requests! Jeez. Not very nice of me. I can say with a bit of pride, however, that those aforementioned request-delaying albums were all real good. I already talked about one of those a couple weeks back, so I figured it might be nice of me to talk about a couple more: The Small Faces' There Are But Four Small Faces and Ogden's Nut Gone Flake, two albums that were way way way too good for me to ignore.

One thing you might notice is that, yes, like the other album, these Small Faces records also feature Ronnie Lane. I'll do you a favor and not talk about how much I enjoy his cherubic feel-good personality for the umpteenth time. The Small Faces, in case you do not know, were a British mod-pop-rock group from the mid-to-late 60's. Their lead singer/songwriter/guitarist was a man by the name of Steve Marriott, whose speaking voice was the most cockney British thing you could possibly hear and whose singing voice was the best Sam Cooke-inspired vocal thing you could possibly hear. He was very good at switching between goofy over-the-top British snarls and powerful rock 'n roll bellows, often within the same song. The bassist for this band was the aforementioned Lane, who wrote songs with Marriott and sang lead once in a blue moon; I won't say any more about him. The other two dudes were Ian McLagan, who didn't sing at all I don't think but was a very talented keyboardist, and Kenney Jones, whose poundy-pound-pound drum sound (I don't know how to describe the way drums sound) gave every Small Faces song a super-heavy backbone. Once Marriott left the band in '69 to do music things with the great Pete Frampton, the rest recruited the now-very-well-known-but-not-so-much-so-in-ninteen-sixty-nine Rod Stewart and the kinda-sorta-well-known-now-but-only-cuz-he's-in-the-Stones Ronnie Wood and became the Faces, another real cool band that were great for completely different reasons (The Faces = loose, sloppy and rootsy; The Small Faces = tight, poppy and rockin'). Then they broke up too, at some point. The end.

I judged the Small Faces harshly before I even heard one song by them. Once I was told they were considered "rivals of the Who" in their prime, my initial response was something along the lines of "Pshhh. Also rans." I was a hardcore Who guy at the time, you see, and I had no more room in my heart for Mod-influenced British rock groups. From their band name and image, I'd always thought of theme as a bunch of whimsical British flower-power men. Their big hit was called "Itchycoo Park," for crying out loud!! But of course I was wrong about all of this, like usual. "Itchycoo Park," while a little cutesy, is the greatest song, featuring a classic call-and-response between Marriott and Lane that alternates between Lane's innocent questions and Marriott's unhinged responses ("What didja do there?" "I GOT HIIIIIIIII-IGH!"). Then I heard their classic '68 concept album Ogden's Nut Gone Flake, which features some cute-yet-sinister whimsical Britishisms ("Rene" and "Lazy Sunday", the latter being the best possible example of Marriott's ability to switch between vocal mannerisms) and songs like "Song Of A Baker," maybe the most (read: ONLY) badass song ever written about baking. How could a song featuring the lyrics "I'll jug some water, bake some flower, store some salt and wait the hour" be badass, you ask? Especially one sung mostly by all-around nice man Ronnie Lane?? You'll just have to listen for yourself, friend.

That was what really surprised me about the Small Faces - they were a pretty rockin' band! Sure, they would sometimes be prone to the cutesier side of British psychedelia (see the entire second side of Ogden's), but most of the time they had as heavy of a sound as anybody during the mid 60's - and that includes the Who. Hell, if anything, they were heavier than the Who - on record, at least. While the Who were always powerful onstage, by the time of The Who Sell Out (and especially Tommy) they were adopting a more pop-oriented sound. The Small Faces wrote pop songs as well, but even on Ogden's the force of their sound is unrelenting. My love of that album eventually led me to pick up There Are But Four Small Faces - the album immediately preceding it - on vinyl, and I would have to say I like it even better. It's an American version of the original British release, so purists may take issue with the tracks on here, but I certainly can't complain - a bunch of great, great singles are tacked on, including "Itchycoo Park" and "Tin Soldier," the latter being maybe my favorite Small Faces song ever. Not unlike "Song Of A Baker," I expected it to be almost Kinks-ian just from its title (see the Kinks' goofy "Tin Soldier Man"), but instead it is one of the most powerfully soulful songs they ever recorded! Who knew?? That, and you've got "Green Circles" and "Here Come The Nice" and "Get Yourself Together" - there is not a track on this album that I do not like. While the second side of Ogden's can be a little off-putting, Four Small Faces is primo British psych-rock from top to bottom. Twelve great tracks. Not bad at all.

So yes, yes. The Small Faces were one of those "really great bands from the Sixties" that you hear so much about. I don't have their first album but one day I am destined to own it. And, by extension, every album by the Faces and the Humble Pie (ehhhh not so sure about that last one). If you don't believe me about These Small Faces, take it from a band that was influenced by them a heckuva lot - the Greatest Band Alive, OASIS.

Hah! Yeah, that's right. God-damn OASIS. If you don't love the Small Faces just from hearing that name, what kind of awful good-music-hating cretin are you? The worst worst kind, that's what.

Requested Review: "Sailin' Shoes" by Little Feat

2009-09-03T20:23:00.005-04:00

vagcake

Before I delve into this sure-to-be-a-winner Little Feat review, I would like to take a moment to apologize for last week's post in which I claimed blogfriend Ben Vigeant was "legitimately upset" with an old video game review of mine. It was unnecessary and simply not true! Which I guess goes for that entire video game-related tangent in that very same post. You would all do well to ignore it next time the urge to read my Sebadoh reviews hits you. Which I'm sure will be a frequent problem.

Moving on then. Tonight's review was requested by none other than my good friend Luke Coryea! I have known good 'ol Luke for a very long time. Kindergarten, at least. It is not much of a stretch to say that, without Luke's musical influence on me during high school, I would not be writing in a blog about music much at all. He was inadvertently responsible for most of my sudden classic rock obsession during my teenage years, and for that I owe him quite a bit! Without him I would probably not know a single thing about Todd Rundgren. What kind of life would I be leading without knowing what album "Bang The Drum All Day" was on??

Well, anyway. Luke gave me a few options for albums to review; one was a Todd Rundgren record that I didn't do 'cuz I already reviewed like 5 of his albums at once, and another was a Stephen Stills album which I didn't do because I actually know who Stephen Stills is. The last one was Little Feat's Sailin' Shoes, which I chose mostly 'cuz I remember Luke talking about how much he liked them back in high school. I knew nothing about them then, and until about a week ago, I still knew absolutely nothing about them! So I figured that would make for a kinda-sorta interesting review.

What are Little Feat, anyway? Who IS Little Feat? When was Little Feat?? So so many questions about these Feat. Well, the main dude (at least in the early 70's, when Sailin' Shoes was recorded) is a man named Lowell George, who sang, played guitar and wrote most of the songs here. There's also a bunch of other dudes whose names I do not know, so let's not worry about them. Sailin' Shoes, released in '72, sounds to me like a mix of country rock with a tinge of Stonesy hard-rock and blues, not to mention some occasional early 70's pop-rock. The latter is most evident on "Easy To Slip," the first track on here; it's a sweet, easy going piece of pop-rock that almost sounds like Jackson Browne at his most slick. I mean that in a good way, though, since "Easy To Slip" might be my favorite song on here. The guitars are chimey and twangy, and the vocal melody is remarkably amiable - it's a good time, is what I'm saying. A pleasant early-70's vibe. It makes a man feel good.

The rest of the album isn't quite as poppy as the opening track. "Cold, Cold, Cold", "Cat Fever" and (obviously) "A Apolitical Blues" all dip into the blues; "Willin'" "Trouble" and the title track are pretty much straight-up country; and "Tripe Face Boogie" and ESPECIALLY "Teenage Nervous Breakdown" are rock rock rockin'! The latter is almost punk-rock, one could say! (Not really, though. It's pretty much just fast rock 'n roll. Not all fast rock 'n roll is punk rock. I would do well to remember this.) So while there is some stylistic diversity on here, the whole record as a pretty clear, poppy production. Nothing really sounds raw or legit bluesy - it's a well-produced album. And that's not a detriment; this album has a very amiable sound, and the production reflects that.

Pshh. I don't know what I'm talking about. "Production" - sheesh. Let's talk about what songs I like on here. "Easy To Slip," I already talked about that one. "Trouble" is a sweet little country-rock tune. "Teenage Nervous Breakdown" is - well I'm actually not sure what to think about it. Something about it puts me off. Lowell George's vocals? He kinda sounds like he's trying to hard to force a "rockin'" voice out of his usually amiable country-boy vocals. Jury's still out on that one. "Got No Shadow" starts off with a lite-funk keyboard that doesn't really appeal to me, but turns into a melodic laid-back jam that does, so that's a good thing. "Willin'" actually has a story behind it: apparently, Lowell George used to be in the Mothers of Invention for some strange reason, and ended up getting kicked out 'cause he offered Frank Zappa the aforementioned track. According to him, Mr. Zappa was so opposed to recreational drug use that any endorsement of it in a song like "Willin'" was grounds for termination. Now, to me, that seems like kind of a silly reason to kick someone out of a band, but who the hell am I? I'm no musician from the early 70's. I have no idea what actually happened. Either way "Willin'" is a cute country-rock ditty with mostly spoke-sung verses. I think it's from the point of view of a trucker? Either way it mentions drug use a lot. There you go.

"Texas Rose Cafe" feels like an unusual way to end an album. Not a bad song by any stretch of the imagination, but hey, what's with that falsetto vocal from Mr. George? What's up with that? Actually, you know, hearing it again that's probably the only unusual thing about the song. Otherwise it's a bluesy-rock road song. Or maybe it's not a road song. Let's not worry about it.

I don't always like whiteboy British blues songs but I like "A Apolitical Blues" enough. It's not my favorite song on the album but it's got a nice sound. Everything here sounds good, and hey, to record an album as likeable as Sailin' Shoes is certainly no little feat. Heh. Heheh HAHAHA!! I'm sure you saw that one coming.

Apparently the misspelling of "feet" is supposed to be a tribute to the Beatles? That's nice. They don't sound anything like the Beatles even the slightest bit but it's cute.

Lowell George died in '79 of a heart attack. A heart attack? The guy was in his mid-30's! That's rough. That's kind of scary. Unless it was drug related. Then it makes perfect sense and we can move on without issue.

Unfortunately, there's not much to move on to! This is a pretty likeable album that you might enjoy if you like early 70's country-pop-rock (or "classic rock," as you could call it, although that's not much of a genre). You'll probably like it. Apparently Little Feat are still recording and touring! And sometimes they have album covers like this one:

These guys sure had zany album covers!!!

This review isn't very interesting huh.

Requested Review: "The Freed Weed" by Sebadoh

2009-08-27T19:02:00.007-04:00

bleaaghhhh!!

I've gotta write this review before it drives me completely insane. Friend of the blog Liz decided to request and album that is 70+ minutes in length with a series of songs that rarely exceed the minute-and-a-half mark. In layman's terms, this is a long long album with lots and lots of songs and man I can't wrap my head around it! It doesn't matter how good the music is, I am so terrible with long albums. Even when I listen through them two or three times I don't feel like I'm listening hard enough or I'm not getting those lyrics down or - you know, I'm just not doing the artist justice here. As of this writing I have only listened through Sebadoh's Freed Weed one-and-three-quarter times. How is that enough?? I'm the laziest man in the world. Let's just do this thing.

Freed Weed, I have heard, is a collection of Sebadoh's earliest work. It's a combination of tracks from their first couple releases: 1989's Freed Man and 90's Weed Forrestin'. Upon further research - and I literally just noticed this - Forrestin' comprises the first half of this album, with bits of Freed Man comprising the second. It's not like it matters all that much, considering that both albums sounded pretty similar anyway, so I'm just going to save myself the trouble and refer to The Freed Weed as its own entity.

I can't talk about specific tracks right now. Can't do it. They all go by so fast! Let me just talk about how this album sounds: downtrodden, loose, poorly recorded. The lowest possible lo-fi, with the exception of the songwriting (because, y'know, it's Lou Barlow and he's good). I have no idea how much of this music was written with the expectation that other people would listen to it. From the sound of it, it just seems like Lou Barlow and Eric Gaffney's cute little project. Most of this was recorded while Lou was still bassin' it for Dinosaur Jr., right? Am I right? I have no idea. I distinctly remember reading in Our Band Could Be Your Life about how, at this point, Lou was just so intimidated by J Mascis's songwriting that he was too shy to take his own songs seriously. I mean - I can see where he was coming from, considering that Mascis was at the top of his game in the 80's, but man. The guy was just not interested in recording his songs in a nice way!

I like a lot of songs on here, though. What I can remember, at least. Let me scan through the tracklisting here and shoot off some names: "Punch In The Nose" I LOVE. What's with those horns? Is that a trumpet? I don't know horns too well. But it's such a funny, catchy melody. "Brand New Love" is pretty, and what's that near the end? A sped-up sample of Dinosaur Jr's classic "The Lung"! A great song hidden in a great song. "Slightest Suggestion" is haunting beauty despite all that tape hiss. "Jealous Of Jesus" was funny before I even heard it. Lyrics: "Everybody wants to dance with Jesus / Nobody wants to dance with me." "Bolder" is interesting but it doesn't sound like Lou, unless he fudged with his voice or something. Oh, and the intro to "True Hardcore," in which Mr. Barlow lovingly claims that "This is a ripoff of every other song I've ever done." Ha-ha! I wouldn't agree with him but it's a funny thing for a man to say.

Lou Barlow has a heck of a nice voice. Does anybody ever complain that he's too wimpy or mopey? Or over-emotional? I don't think he is, but I worry that others might think he is. Maybe he borders on it a little bit. But honestly, I would go out on a limb and say the guy has a nicer voice than J Mascis. I mean, I'm not taking anything away from J - in the context of Dinosaur Jr., his warbly vocals are perfect. But Lou's is a lot more appealing to my ears. More flexible, I guess.

I'm sorry for this nothing-for-nothing review of Sebadoh's The Freed Weed. My consensus: I do enjoy it. It's pretty consistently melancholy, and not every song is gonna stick in your head, but the ones that do are real winners. The guy was a talented songwriter! This is not the first Sebadoh album I have heard - that would be III, which I heard about a year ago and generally enjoyed. But man, that one sounds polished compared to these songs. "The Freed Pig", have you heard that song? Compared to these songs that is a bonafide pop-rock song! Also a GREAT GREAT song that is great.

Lou Barlow also wrote my favorite song on Dinosaur Jr.'s Beyond, "Back To Your Heart". I'm an idiot and I haven't listened through Farm yet so I don't know what songs he did on that. But I'm sure they're memorable! Lou Barlow, talented man. Indie-rock-nerdy guy with a lot of heart. I'm repeating myself.

By the way, I was wondering if anybody noticed (or cared), but I am never writing about video games in this blog again. Ever. Maybe a passing reference, but nothing else. Gaming culture is just - I can't contribute to it. I have nothing to say. I'm afraid! I put up a positive review of Final Fantasy IV DS about a year ago and it made my good friend Ben Vigeant very upset with me. Legitimately upset. I just have nothing new or interesting to say.

What I realize is this - I love video games so much. I mean, to death. How can I not? The first music I ever loved was video game music. It was there before I even started listening to the Beatles, for god's sake. But it's because of this - this instinctive love of certain genres of games from my youngest years - that I have no confidence in my own tastes in games. My only current-gen console as of this writing is a Wii, and I have four games for it - all first-party Nintendo. Almost every game I have played through in the past year has been a Japanese RPG on the Super Nintendo that I have emulated on my computer. So who the shit would wanna listen to what I have to say about any game at all? Who cares? I don't get angry at bad games the way I do about bad music. Some shitty Iron Man movie-based piece of crap isn't going to get me riled up like the new Panic at the Disco album. When I write about music, I feel entirely confident. I never feel that way about video games.

It's just different. Playing a video game is so totally different than listening to music. It's - you're putting yourself into something. It's an experience. An even more personal experience than music, for me at least. And I have no idea how to talk about that, or how to be discerning about it. It gets to the point where I'll listen to a Retronauts podcats from 1up.com, and actually get upset because they'll get all cynical about old games I like! And I'll be like, "What? What was so bad about the Gamecube?" and shut the thing off. I don't get it. How could you get angry about something like Donkey Kong Country when Say Anything is still making money?? I can't do it. Can't.

But hey. Lou Barlow. Sebadoh. Better than any stinkin' VIDIOT game!! That's how my mom always referred to video games. Very clever of her.

Also, a bit of a P.S.: My buddy Emily Neumann has formed a band, apparently. They are called Terrella. I never thought of Ms. Emily as a musically-inclined human being (not meant as an insult) so I was kinda surprised when she told me about it, but pshh! Good for her! I haven't gotten a chance to listen to them yet but they apparently need a rhythm guitarist. So join their band while you can! Before they hit it big and you're sittin' around with your rhyhtm guitar not knowing what to do like some kind of idiot.

Self-Requested Review: "Rough Mix" by Pete Townshend and Ronnie Lane

2009-08-22T16:43:00.006-04:00

two friendly dudes

Requested reviews are slow in the making! Oh no!!

Sorry for the whole "no updates" thing over the past couple of weeks. I promised myself I wouldn't have to spend the first three paragraphs of a review explaining my lack of updates but here we are again. Let's get the excuses out of the way: the next requested album I'm reviewing is Sebadoh's The Freed Weed, and it's really long and as such I haven't listened to it enough yet. This is mostly because I have been listening to a bunch of other records I have been picking up on whim after whim after whim. Also, I'm completely lazy.

But hey, enough excuses. Why don't I talk about one of the albums that's been distracting me from my requests? So you can see that I haven't just been hiding under my bedsheets in deathly silence these past couple weeks? Yeah! What a good idea!!

Rough Mix was a 1977 collaboration between Who guitarist/songsmith Pete Townshend and Small Faces/Faces bassist/songman Ronnie Lane. I'd never listened to this record before because I never knew who the hell Ronnie Lane was - I'd always dismissed it as a record by "Pete Townshend and some dude." But then, miraculously, I recently discovered the greatness of the Faces AND the Smaller Faces and realized - hey, "some dude" is that Faces bassist! The one who charmingly speak-sings the opening verses during the Faces cover of "Maybe I'm Amazed"!! So I figured a collaboration between two British rock dudes I liked would be something memorable. And hey! I was all too right.

"Collaboration" is actually a loose term here. Rough Mix is, essentially, two solo EPs combined into one full-length record. The structure of the album is literally just "Pete song, Ronnie song, Pete song, Ronnie song..." etc. etc. It's as if the two of them just said, "Hey, we've both got a bunch of good solo songs - why not just throw them together??" And that's not just in regard to the track layout - their songs sound completely different! Different genres, even. Pete's songs are all studio-polished pop-rock, unsurprisingly not too dissimilar to what the Who were doing around that time; Ronnie's songs are all country tunes, laid-back and amiable, accentuated by the charm of his regular-guy voice. This makes the flow of the first half of the album a little jarring - I mean, how does the unassuming beauty of Ronnie Lane's "Annie" fit between the studio-perfect (and Eric Clapton-cameoed) jam of the title track and the Whoish pop-rock of Pete's "Keep Me Turning"? It almost sounds as if the two weren't even in the studio together. And maybe they weren't!

That's only for the first half, though. During the second this so-called "collaboration" becomes a little more clear; Ronnie's late-night acoustic "April Fool" flows perfectly into Pete's slower "Street In The City," and the two actually sing together! on the lovely "Heart To Hang On To." And honestly, I enjoy the songs so much on this album that the unusual flow of the first side doesn't bother me much at all. With Pete, you've got the pop-rock of "My Baby Gives It Away" (a song comparing his wife to a prostitute, I'm guessing), the spiritually Who-worthy "Keep Me Turning," the kinda-dumb "Misunderstood" (although lyrically it's a pretty funny song about Pete's desire to be elusive and mysterious) and the bizarro "Street In The City" which starts off as a nice acoustic number and somehow morphs into a string-laden opera full of Townshend's trademark overwritten "serious" lyrics. Despite a few snags here and there, Pete's stuff is all solid, and if anything these songs proved he was viable enough as a solo artist (a notion confirmed when he recorded Empty Glass a few years later).

But hey! I almost like Ronnie's songs better. And I barely even know the guy! "Nowhere To Run" and "Annie" are two of the loveliest, most laid-back songs I have heard in a while; "April Fool," with its subtle acoustic backing and crackling vocals, might be my favorite song on the album; and his verse-singing on "Heart To Hang Onto" is all too charming. "Camelody" is kind of a dumb honky-tonk thing but what can you do? Ronnie Lane's songs are just so damn nice that I can't resist them. His voice is like a cross between George Harrison's and Bob Dylan's. I like him! Makes me sad that I hadn't discovered this guy until just recently.

So there is a whole lot to like on Rough Mix. If you're a Pete Townshend fan, pick it up for some lost gems in his solo catalog, along with a bunch of songs by some guy you've never heard of but who is actually really great. If you're a Ronnie Lane fan then you probably already have this album because this was probably the most popular record this guy had any part in besides those Faces albums. And if you're not a fan of either - come on!! What are you, a Peter Frampton fan?

But no. Forget about this review. You all want your "requested reviews" don't you? You don't want to hear about albums I want you to listen to! How boring is that? Well, I assure all of you that the requested reviews coming up will all be hilarious corkers that you will relish for years and years to come. The Sebadoh one might not be too exciting (SPOILER ALERT: it's pretty good), but the rest of them, hoo-ee! You've got so so many more genres that I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. Your southern rock. Your electro-indie-pop. Your 70's prog. Your techno. Limp Bizkit. It's all gonna be heard and talked about by yours truly as soon as possible.

("As soon as possible" obviously meaning "whenever I get tired of listening to Paul Revere and the Raiders' "The Great Airplane Strike" on a continuous loop")

(Also something I forgot to mention in the review: during the recording of Rough Mix Ronnie Lane was diagnosed with MS. He lived in agony for another two decades before his untimely death. Just thought I'd let you know!)

Requested Review: "Appetite For Destruction" by Guns 'N Roses

2009-08-07T16:20:00.004-04:00

see, THIS is the album cover all the kids wanna see

Today's requested review comes straight from the brain of one Robert Schwartz. I will refrain from making this review personal or confessional in any way, but the truth remains that I have known Mr. Schwartz longer than anyone else who has requested a review from me - since 3rd grade, in fact. We were very close friends for many many years (we traded Japanese Pokemon cards when they were still in vogue, for god's sake - that is the sign of true friendship!!) until we sadly went our separate ways after Rob transferred to a different high school. And 9/11 and all that. Changed everything.

And yet, despite the incredible odds against our friendship, we have maintained a loving correspondence over the years. Believe it or not, Mr. Schwartz was actually responsible for inviting me to my first rock concert EVER - a Kiss/Aerosmith show way back in 2003. Without that epochal show, I may never have become as obsessed with rock 'n roll music as I am now (despite the fact that I hardly listen to either band, but that's null and void). So in effect, I owe the guy this very blog!! But now Rob has entrusted me with the task of reviewing (sigh) his FAVORITE ALBUM IN ALL OF ROCK MUSIC'S EXISTENCE - 1987's well-regarded classic Appetite For Destruction by the one and only Guns 'N Roses. And so, once again, I have been forced into the awkward position of telling a dear friend that their favorite 45-minute-long period of music ever conceived is disreputable trash.

Hmm? Hmm. No, no, my bad again. It's disreputable garbage.

Ha! Ha! A little misdirection there!!

Fun fact: I had never listened to the entirety of Appetite For Destruction before last week. Not even once. The hits I have always known, but nothing else. This is because I am simply not that interested in the folk-rock combo famously known as "Guns And Roses." Their hits are pretty good but I don't like Axl Rose too much and his unfalteringly egomaniacal personality never really appealed to me. I have also never been fond of his voice, and then there was that whole Chinese Democracy thing and I wanted nothing to do with that, because the thought of Guns 'N Roses with Axl as the only remaining original member is just a horrifying concept. So I never actively sought out Appetite until Mr. Rob prodded me to review it for him. So here I am, and I've listened to it, and I'm being a total dick about it! Surprise of the century.

Honestly, I don't have that much to say about Appetite For Destruction. I'm not in love with it, but it's got some killer tracks. It was obviously a colossal megahit and a lot of people love it to death, and I have nothing against that. I personally find it a little too slick and indulgent - at least on Axl's part - to find it as enjoyable as, say, AC/DC's Back In Black. It's tough for me to give a singular, generalized opinion on this record. I'm just all over the place here!

A few thoughts:

- "Paradise City" is a great song. This is probably obvious to a lot of people, but I haven't heard it in a really long time and I never realized how good it was until now. It's the little things: that echoey guitar intro, followed by those heavy drums, kick things off perfectly. Then there's that cute little synth that doesn't show up anywhere else on the album, and Slash's nigh-perfect guitar riff-noodling about a minute in that might be my favorite aspect of the song. And how 'bout that sudden thrashy breakdown during the song's last two minutes?? Damn, that's good. It's a very well structured track. And it's mostly based around that chanty chorus, so there's no room for any embarrassing wannabe-badass Axl lyrics! This is nothing but a good thing (time - Bret Michaels).

- I know as a musical critic of music I am supposed to champion obscure album tracks over the more well-known radio hits, but I will say without reservation that the big hits on this album are probably the best and most distinctive. "Sweet Child O'Mine" is still lovely, "Paradise City" tears, "Welcome To The Jungle" is ridiculous fun. The only album track that totally grabs me is "Mr. Brownstone" - most of the rest of the songs here range from pretty cool to kinda meh. At least from my first couple listens.

- I don't like Axl's voice much but I kinda dig his lower, goofier voice. It can sound a little boneheaded, but it gives songs like "It's So Easy" and especially "Mr. Brownstone" a provocative edge.

- I somehow remember Mark Prindle actively registering his dislike for the last couple minutes of "Rocket Queen," the closing track here. I, for some reason, very much enjoy it. It's got kind of an anthemic, uplifting edge that most of the rest of the album lacks.

- The well-known MegaMan X3 anthem "My Michelle" has a killer heavy riff but I just can't get past Axl's vocal delivery. He tries a little too hard to sound "dangerous" on this one, and it annoys me. I was actually gonna slam the lyrics for being in the same vein ("Your daddy works in porno / now that mommy's not around / she used to love her heroin / but now she's underground!") until I read that they are actually a brutally honest chronicle of one of the band's friends, named Michelle. She wanted a pretty song about her, and Axl wrote this. That's just hilarious.

- Why are these guys compared to the Stones so much? They sound nothing like them. They're more like a meaner Aerosmtih.

- "Think About You" is a cool song.

- "You're Crazy" is pretty fast! Almost punk-rock!!

- I respect what Guns 'N Roses represented. They were a bunch of mean drug addicts in a sea of cutesy boy-toy Bon Jovis during the late 80s. Unfortunately, said respect does not guarantee that I will listen to this album all that much. Except for "Paradise City" which I want to listen to all the time now.

-My reviews of the rest of GNR's discography are as follows. As I have never listened to any of these albums before - and probably never will - I will base my opinions on them primarily on what I remember of reviews I've read.

GNR Lies - Axl Rose is a racist!!
Use Your Illusion I - Bloated! Every track is like 10 minutes long!!
Use Your Illusion II - Bloateder! Might have that song where Axl yells at all of his critics by name but I forget, either way that's kinda silly
Spaghetti Incident?!? - Covers a real cool Damned song! Also a Charles Manson song because Axl is an attention whore.
Chinese Democracy - no no let's not get into this

Bottom Line: It's Guns 'N Roses. You know what to expect.

Rob, I tried to give you a good review here. I really did. I know I've failed you. I'll make it up to you somehow.

Hey you remember that time you emailed me some porn over AOL way back in the day? And your dad found it and called me angrily, thinking that I had sent it to you for some reason? And he wanted to talk to my parents and I started crying?? Yeah I remember that.

Requested Review: "Songs: Ohia" by Songs: Ohia

2009-07-26T19:23:00.003-04:00

Jason Molina And His Owls

Today's requested review is a bit of a corker, folks. That is because it has been requested by none other than Mr. John Keogh, creator of the famed "digital comic strip" Lucid TV! Wowzers. In case you have not been informed about the current "internetted sequential picture" phenomenon, they are just like the regular comic strips you would find in your daily Funnies newspaper page ("Hi and Lois" and the like), only they are painstakingly pieced together with millions of 1's and 0's so they may appear on your computer's screen. As such, creating them is an arduous, lonely task only taken upon by the bravest and most brilliant minds of our generation. Mr. Keogh has not only managed to create one of these elusive things, he has somehow managed to make some very funny jokes with them as well! No small task.

Seriously, though, he's a very talented and nice guy and you should read his stuff post-haste if you haven't already. Unfortunately he has saddled me with the difficult task of reviewing Songs: Ohia's self-titled 1997 debut - his favorite album. Now, I am perfectly willing to accept any and all requests for reviews, but hey, I don't wanna break any hearts here! For all I know John could be pinning his entire soul's emotion on my opinion of this, the record he loves more than all, and if I don't like it he may regress into a childlike state of unhinged despair, shocking him into pre-natal unconsciousness (yes, yes, that made perfect sense and I am a talented writer). I mean, you never know, right?

But, no. No. I will be honest. I must be honest. Songs: Ohia is one boring piece of indie-folk SHITTT.

Haha. Hah! Wait, no. No. I misspoke. I meant to say "it's pretty good."

Now I will admit that, just from my first listen of Songs: Ohia, I could already tell that this type of album was not quite my cup of tea. What we have here is "indie"-folk (I am getting a little tired of that term, hence the superfluous quotations) at its absolute sparest: just singer-songwriter Jason Molina, his acoustic guitar, some soft percussion, and little else. Once in a while, some extra instruments will come in-and-out - a clarinet here, a banjo there, an accordion everywhere - but for the most part, Molina's musical approach is pretty bare bones. It's an interesting sound, but one that might become a little tiresome depending on your tastes; many of these songs are dark, foreboding, and deathly slow (especially "Crab Orchard" and "Big Sewell Mt."), not to mention that Molina's voice falls into a Jeff Magnum-esque reediness ("reediness," yes, as if I even knew what that meant). The entire mood of this record is downtrodden, low-key, but not quite mellow; I mean, this isn't Jack Johnson or any of that silliness. Oh, oh no. There's a darkness in this record, one that I can't quite put my finger on. Whatever it is, it makes this album perfectly suited to late-night listening.

Like I said, the super-spare approach on this album might turn some people off. I myself find most of these songs to be a little samey, to the point where I have trouble telling a few of them apart (which is my least favorite listening experience to admit - I feel like a child just saying it, but there it is). Molina's approach can certainly be hypnotic - and, at times, strangely comforting in its honesty - but it isn't one that always "hooks" me, so to speak. It is not a record that makes me want to "get down like a clown," see. Molina sounds so down and out, and the music is so muted at times, that I just lose interest. There are those moments, though, where Songs: Ohia rises above the surface and truly kicks some indie-folk butt. Like the dirgey opening track "Cabwaylingo", with its spindly banjo and pretty melody. Or the out-of-nowhere Molina-yelp "you have BRACED around your smile!!" at the end of otherwise-quiet "Gauley Bridge" before the song just ends all of the sudden for no real reason. Or there's my favorite track here, "Our Republic," which suddenly BURSTS into an accordion-driven SUPERJAM in its last minute, with Molina's voice rising above some dramatic instrumentation. Also I think there's a sax solo at the end! Of all things!! (That IS a saxophone, right? I am terrible at recognizing instruments in songs. I should not be reviewing music.) It is a very exciting moment in the middle of an album that is obviously not meant to be exciting.

OK, maybe that was a bit of a dick thing to say. Does the type of acoustic folk found on Songs: Ohia really need to be "exciting"? No, probably not. This is not music that is meant to get you on your feet, you see. This is the type of music you throw on the CD player next to your bed and fall sweetly to sleep to. At least that's how I hear it! I don't mean that as an insult - it has a sort of hypnotic, relaxing effect, you see. At times I like music that makes me fall asleep.

Oh, god, I don't even remember what I'm trying to say here.

Oh hey, have you noticed that I have not even mentioned anything about the lyrics on this album? Not even a little bit? I have listened to this thing about four or five times now, straight through, and I have not even paid attention to them. I don't remember a single line. God, that's terrible, isn't it? I remembered every "suck my royal dick" line in that shitty LMFAO album, but when it comes to an album in which the lyrics are probably pretty good, I draw a blank. Awful! Apparently if lyrics aren't obnoxiously shoved in my face like an exotic dancer's behind, they don't even register. I am a child.

(No, actually, I hate writing about lyrics. I do. I love great lyrics if they're good and funny and whatnot, but man - I gotta look them up, copy-and-paste them into Blogger, and awkwardly tie them into whatever stupid theme I'm trying to push. Not fun! Also, I shouldn't be reviewing music.)

So there is the big question: will I ever listen to this record again? Yeah, maybe. I could see myself doing that. Not often, mind you - like I already mentioned, this kind of music is just not for me at the end of the day. I mean, why listen to this when I've got the smooth sounds of soulDecision to keep me warm at night?? Right, right. But I do find many aspects of this record compelling - like I said, it's a good record to put on at 2 in the morning with the lights dimmed - not to mention that there are many many respectable music fans who would enjoy this album much more than I do. Like John Keogh, for example! It's his favorite album after all.

So overall: it's pretty good! Worth a listen. Just don't ask me about the lyrics. Jason Molina is still around nowadays as Magnolia Electric Co., which in my limited experience is a little less heavy on the acoustic folk and a little more "rockin'", so to speak. Would I be right in assuming this, readers?? Please answer.

And there is your review, Mr. Keogh. I expect that in exchange for this non-committal, borderline dismissive summation of your absolute favorite album of all time, you will commit to updating Lucid TV every single day for the rest of your life while sending me each original print in advance the moment they are finished - via first-class mail - so I receive a healthy dose of "The Funny" before anybody else does. That's a fair tradeoff, right?

(One small P.S. - I was going to make a joke about how I used the word "spare" way too many times in this review, but upon searching for it I apparently only used it twice! Same goes for "hypnotic" and the phrase "so to speak" - only twice each! Wow!! I must be getting good at this.)

(Oh, P.P.S. - apparently the version of this album I have is "incorrect." According to Wikipedia none of the song titles I mentioned are actually the real titles of the songs! Just stupid fake ones Jason Molina printed on the album's sleeve. What a prick! Trying to deceive me like that.

Also, my version is apparently the vinyl version, with "Greenbrier/For You" added and "Hayfoot/UMW Pension" removed. So I guess this review is in no way authoritative. Having not heard "Hayfoot," I will just go ahead and assume it sounds like most of the other songs on here, but I could be wrong! For all I know it could be a British psych-phase pastiche in the style of the Small Faces' "Itchycoo Park." If so, could someone hook a brother up with an mp3??)

Requested Review: "Party Rock" by LMFAO

2009-07-18T17:31:00.002-04:00

oh nooooooooo

So yes, the entire point of me taking requests for reviews - at least, in theory - is so I can stretch out a little bit and review music that I would not even consider reviewing on my own. You know, music that exists outside of my "music I already know really well and like a whole lot" sphere. And that's all well and good, right? If I am going to become a hot-shot music journalist contributing to VH1/Blender's "MOST AWESOMELY BAD ALBUM COVERS OF ALL TIME" (yes, yes, this is my only goal), I have got to be willing to review a wide range of music! And hey, on paper, this is a very exciting concept - who knows what remarkable, unpredictable musical adventures I will embark on??

Unfortunately, my friend Emily had to go and remind me of what I am really getting myself into. She requested LMFAO's Party Rock.

Oh, I'm not blaming her. Nothing exemplifies "music I would never ever listen to on my own" better than Party Rock. I mean, do I even have to listen to it? Look at that album cover! And man, it's co-produced by Will.I.Am and features Lil Jon. For a man like me, them's some major red flags. Y'know, I am not one of those "I HATE RAP!!" people by any stretch of the imagination, and I absolutely love dance music when it's real good. But I have never been a crunk man. It's not even that it's too sleazy or obnoxious - I mean, it is, but I can take a lot of obnoxious music - but it's just so dang boring! The beats are all the same slow, thumpy club grinds that just don't go anywhere and the vocals are often completely unaffected and dull. You'd think really sleazy club grind music would be provocative and attention-grabbing, but you would apparently be wrong.

But I do admit, while I pretty much knew exactly what to expect out of Party Rock, I had some slightly higher hopes for it than usual. This is only because, before I heard the album, I heard "Shots," the song Lil Jon guests on. And let me tell you - it is a hilarious song. An absolute riot. From the random partygoer shouting "I'M FUCKED UUUUP!" in the intro to Lil Jon's constant incantations of "All my alcoholics, put your hands in the air!" and "If you ain't gettin' drunk, GET THE FUCK OUT THE CLUB!," to the most stupidly repetitive chorus in the history of... well, music ("SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS! SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS! EVERYBODYY!!") - there is seriously not a single moment in this song that is not ridiculously hilarious. If you take it as a piece of comedy, there is nothing funnier in this world. So hearing this song, I hoped - to the ends of this green Earth - that the entire 45 minutes of this record would maintain this level of hilarity. You know, it'd be a hilarious crunk parody full of ridiculously over-the-top lines and goofy beats. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

So I sat down and tried to listen to the album all the way though. And yeah, it made me sad, 'cause the rest of the record isn't nearly as funny. Honestly, people, I would have reviewed this album a lot sooner - Emily requested it almost immediately after I asked for requests, after all, and she got me a copy of it like the day after - but man, I just have not been able to listen all the way through it without getting painfully bored. I just - I crave other music when I listen to this album. It's just not very exciting!

Well, OK. I'm not being fair. There are several other moments on this record that certainly match the hilarity of "Shots". But, you know, it's only a few lines here and there scattered throughout a bunch of boring electro-pop party jams. Only one full song matches "Shots," and that would be the hilariously titled "I Am Not A Whore." See, the premise of the song is that the main LMFAO dude actually wants to get to know women, but he can't because they all just want to have sex with him - a premise that is especially hilarious after song after song of explicitly dirty "flash your titties" exhortations. But it's the lyrics that make it: "Most girls I meet are quite savage /Always tryna' grab up on my package / The say I look yummy and they want a taste / But I'm a human not a sandwich." I can't even - I can't even make this up.

Other funny little bits: a goofy low-voice ordering women to flash their titties "even in church" in "Get Crazy"; the line "If I gotta girl on my arm, don't say SHIIIT!" near the end of "What Happens At The Party," featuring a very funny distorted vocal slow-down effect; the line "I got a girlfriend, but what's the use?" from I forget the exact song (I don't feel like listening through them again, you see). But besides the occasional line, this is not a very funny album - songs like "La La La" and "I Don't Wanna Be" are so straight-faced and unfunny that they just become the generic club jams they otherwise seem to be parodying. Not to mention that "I'm In Miami Bitch," the first single from the album, is actually pretty boring. Why "Shots" isn't the single, I have absolutely no idea.

There is one "unfunny" song I like - "Lil Hipster Girl," despite its annoying throwaway lyrics, has a pretty appealing electro-pop groove (and the opening lines "Talk shit, grab my dick / walk right in, banana split" certainly don't hurt). But that is probably the extent of it. Listen - I will not deny that, in small doses, certain tracks on this album are amazingly entertaining. I just can't take 45 full minutes of it, I guess! My mind is just not wired in this way. Not to mention that, considering that this is a dance pop album in 2009, there is more Autotune on this thing than you can shake a stick at, and I cannot stand Autotune if it's not exploited for comedic effect.

So my verdict: it's not a horrible piece of shit! Just a lot more boring than I'd hoped. Download "Shots" and maybe "I Am Not A Whore" and enjoy. You don't need any of the rest.

And see, I can make no excuses about not liking the album because I have nobody to please here! Emily suggested I review it because she knew it was bad and thought it would be funny. Most other requests I've gotten aren't nearly as ridiculous as this one, so you all have nothing to worry about my friends! No more "gee whiz I just don't like crunk!!" reviews.

But just for fun, since I feel like padding this boring review a little more please enjoy some Youtube comments for this LMFAO video:

chronicman102 (1 week ago)
"drunk

AS fuckkk"

janelyraylo (2 days ago)
"this song is tiizzzziiiggghhhtt wahaha j/k it's pretty legit = )
shots!
shots!
shots!
shots!
shots! everybodayy!!!"

MickQuick07 (2 weeks ago)
"why is the educational system struggling in america? cuz kids are striving to be this lol. but it's pretty catchy. SHOTS :|"

kazimare (2 weeks ago)
"I feel as if my intelligence has drastically increased after listening to this song. I love artistic expression."

sugarfree133 (1 week ago)
"haha weil in amerika immer noch über die hälfte der leute denken dass electro schwul ist!
europa ist mit crookers schon viel weiter!

justice is sowas von überbewertet und die hier nerven einfach nur!"

Once Again My Friend, Sean Rose Will Review Whatever You Want

2009-07-09T20:19:00.003-04:00

Mr. Sean Rose in the throes of desperation

That's right, folks. Once again, I will let you request an album for me to review.

Okay - "letting you" request something is pretty pompous of me. More like I'm begging you to request something. Because once again I have found myself in a situation where I'm only writing about albums I already like and man it is boring me half to death! And I am sure it is boring you too. As such, I have not been updating nearly as frequently as I would like to.

But hey! You can change that! If there is any album by any band in the world - anything at all that you can imagine - that you just can't wait to hear my opinions on, by golly leave a comment here! Or instant message me! Or email me at spydabass@gmail.com! Whatever you want man!! I swear I will try to review everything that is requested of me (which should not be too hard considering few people read this blog anyway).

Once again, a few guidelines:

1) Try to keep requests limited to full albums. I could probably review a couple songs or an EP or something, but I prefer full LPs. It's just more interesting that way!

2) Try not to request anything too obscure. If I can't find the dang album, I can't review it, can I?? Of course, if you have the album to send to me or can link to it, it's all good.

3) I might not like the album so please don't get angry with me if I don't!! Don't request an album for me and automatically expect a good review. You are asking for my opinion! Sorry bro!!

But that's it, really. I have faith in you guys. The last time I did this things worked out really well, even though I did not review everything you guys asked me too. My bad! That was super lazy of me! Promise that won't happen again.

So yeah! Go for it folks. I am a desperate man who would like to listen to some music well outside of his comfort zone. Let your voices be heard.

Album Review: "Off The Wall" by Michael Jackson

2009-07-07T20:36:00.003-04:00

what a nice young man

Let's get this out of the way: yes, I am writing this review because Michael Jackson died. If Michael Jackson had not died recently I would not be writing this review. Yes, it is a sad fact of life that your casual American dude will only celebrate the mertis of a great artist after they have already died. "Where was all this adulation when they were ALIVE, you sycophantic poser??" some will say.

But hey! I've always loved Michael Jackson. I even wrote a review of 1991's Dangerous last summer, during a personal fit of Jackson-mania. And while I admit I hadn't been listening to the guy as much before his unfortunate death, he has always been apart of my musical spectrum, so to speak. I'd still throw on Off The Wall and Thriller at parties. The guy knew how to boogie down better than anybody back in the day - and nobody could craft more perfectly sequenced dance tracks, not even Prince. So why not use his tragic death as an excuse to write about him again?

And in contrast to the increasingly difficult last two decades of Jackson's life, I would like to talk about 1979's Off The Wall, no doubt the most joyous album Jackson would ever release. Thriller was obviously the iconic hit, but even that record has a more calculated commercial sheen to it - not to mention the first signs of Jackson's ever-creeping paranoia. Off The Wall makes none of these concessions; it is an organic, exciting, endlessly danceable record, one that celebrates - in the greatest way possible - Jackson's newfound sense of freedom as a solo artist. He'd done solo albums before, but they were mostly commercial side-projects orchestrated by Jackson 5 producers, with little creative input from MJ himself. Here, he is totally in control of every beat, every added instrument, every staccato vocal inflection - which gives the album a tight, cohesive feel. Never again would Jackson manage to craft and endless-dance album as perfectly as he did on Off The Wall; save for a few poppier numbers in the middle, and only one ballad, this album is chock-full of great disco-tinged shakers, and does not let up until the final strains of "Burn This Disco Out."

Do we need to go over some tracks here? Yeah, let's do that. The record kicks off with "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough," the greatest dance song ever recorded. Yes, yes it is. Can we all agree on this? It is six minutes of pure dance floor perfection. Everything, from Michael's intro "WHOO" to that horn-blaring middle-eight to that eerily funky guitar riff during the song's fadeout is just... well, you know. "Rock With You" is next - oh jeez, I'm not going to even say anything on that one. Come on! You know it. Two other Rod Temperton songs - "Off The Wall" and "Burn This Disco Out" - can be found here, along with some great lesser-known songs by outside writers ("Girlfriend" by Paul McCartney, "I Can't Help It" by Stevie Wonder). Fantastic lesser-known album tracks include "Workin' Day And Night" (featuring a mesmerizing staccato breath-rhythm from MJ), "Get On The Floor," "It's The Falling In Love," etc. etc. The ballad "She's Out Of My Life" may break up the dancefloor euphoria for a little while, but it's still great, probably the best schmaltzy ballad MJ could manage. So good, so good.

Maybe this review is becoming a little sycophantic. Yeah. But man, I love Off The Wall. If you're looking for an MJ record without all the paranoia, anger, and (worse yet) "save the children" ploys, this is the record for you - probably the most theraputic listen possible after his death. He never sounded this organic, this unhindered, ever again. Sad, but true.

What I will say is that this review has yet to reveal how truly sad I am about Michael Jackson's death. It didn't hit me when it actually happened - I was almost relieved, at the time, to see him out of his misery - but when I heard about how close he was to his giant comeback concerts, it got to me. I mean, what if he'd had a legitimate comeback? What if the world fell in love with him all over again? Why didn't he deserve one last moment? Man. Maaan.

To close this up, I'll quote the last part of my Dangerous review from last year, which sums up my thoughts on MJ better than I can articulate at the moment:

"Y'know, there's no point in me denying Michael Jackson. Yes, he doesn't have the consistency nor the artistic cred that Prince has, but man, when he was big, he was bigger than anybody. I feel a comparison to Elvis is apt (I'm not saying MJ is better or equal to Elvis, it's just for comparison): like Elvis, Michael Jackson wasn't necessarily an absolutely stellar recording artist and was ultimately brought down by his bizarre personal life, but he honestly had the ability to touch the world at his peak (make all the jokes about that statement as you like), something Prince could never ever do. And most of the time, he had the music to back it up."

Can't say I'm happy with that Elvis comparison right about now.

Rest in peace, bud.

Boognish Double-Review: "White Pepper" and "Quebec" by Ween

2009-06-27T17:44:00.003-04:00

i'm running out of hilarious things to say here

Ween's Chocolate and Cheese was one of the first records I ever reviewed on this blog (way back in 2006, to be exact - one of many old blog posts you should probably never read). Since that album was the first Ween album I ever heard, and since I reviewed it almost immediately after I first heard it, I obviously had none of the perspective on Ween that I now have. Considering that they've become one of my most beloved bands in the past few years, I figure a follow-up review is long overdue. Especially considering that Chocolate and Cheese, despite its greatness, is currently only my third or fourth favorite Ween album! If that.

Now, that's taking nothing away from the quality of Chocolate and Cheese. It's still wonderful. It's just that Ween have recorded many, many excellent records, and it's not easy to pick a favorite. For the time being, I would like to discuss two later-day Ween records that I have come to prefer over C&C - 2000's White Pepper and 2003's Quebec. Both are strong candidates for Sean Rose's Favorite Ween Album.

Of course, they're just candidates, you see. I can't decide which would qualify as my "favorite" without getting a headache, so I'm not even going to bother. White Pepper comes pretty close as anything, though. After the brilliant nautical psychedelia of The Mollusk, Ween decided to take a crack at Beatles-esque pop, which resulted in their most accessible, joyous record to date. I mean, that's not saying much with Ween - it's still varied, unusual, and full of primo Ween musical parodies (Steely Dan jazz-pop on "Pandy Fackler," a Motorhead throwaway with "Stroker Ace," and a Jimmy Buffet thing called "Bananas And Blow"). But hot damn, how about what might be my favorite Ween song ever, "Even If You Don't"? That's pure McCartney piano-pop, sir, delivered with a perfect hook, a wonderfully enthused Gene vocal (masking classic twisted Ween lyrics: "Please don't touch the phone book / my friends are getting pissed off") and a lovely noodly Dean solo - all delivered with only a scant trace of irony. Could've been a hit, it could, in some other world. And how about "Stay Forever," a lovely power pop ballad worthy of Badfinger? Or album closer "She's Your Baby," maybe the sweetest little song Ween could possibly write? None of this is a joke. None of it sounds like a joke, that is. Shit, were Ween ever really joking, anyway?

Besides those songs, Ween expand their psychedelic influences with "Exactly Where I'm At," "Flutes of Chi," "Back To Basom," the hard-rockin' "The Grobe" and the oddly Residents-like "Ice Castles." And of course, there's "Falling Out," another irony-free screed against a former lover in the same vein as "Baby Bitch." White Pepper is the least crazy, least "brown" album in Ween's rich oeuvre - so what really shines through is Ween's songwriting chops, which have always been top-notch. It's pop music! GREAT pop music. Isn't all the best pop music a little fucked up under the surface, anyway? A tradition Ween understands all too well.

Quebec was Ween's purported return to their "brown" roots, claiming similarities to early-90s favorites GodWeenSatan and The Pod. But that's only half true - a third true, really. Quebec is so much more than that. Abandoning most of White Pepper's pop sheen, Quebec's songs are more thoughtful - dare I say, meditative - than any other Ween record to date. Songs like the acoustic "Among His Tribe," the muted psych-pop "Tried And True," the dirgey "Captain" and the folk echoes of "The Argus" are surprisingly pretty, almost lulling. They remind me of The Mollusk's "Cold Blows The Wind" or even C&C's "Buenos Tardes Amigo," only totally straight-faced. Of course, Quebec's atmospherics could easily be overshadowed by some of the more demented songs here, the aforementioned "brown" throwbacks that prove Ween, despite their newfound hi-fi production and polished songwriting skills, can be just as twisted as they used to be if they so choose. These songs are the demented synth-chant of "So Many People In The Neighborhood," the hilariously unsettling ode to "Zoloft" (wait for the "I can't explain what I'm feeling inside" line - one of my favorite Ween lines, just from its delivery alone), the absolutely delirious "Happy Colored Marbles" and the repetitively electronic "Fucked Jam." "Brown" songs they certainly are - like any classic Ween track, they will make you feel dirty just by listening to them.

But those are only four songs - three, if you don't count the instrumental "Fucked Jam." Discounting those songs, and the aforementioned meditative psych-folk tracks, this might as well just be White Pepper Part 2. The record kicks off with the misleading "It's Gonna Be A Long Night," easily eclipsing "Stroker Ace" as Ween's best Motorhead parody (sample lyrics: "Don't call your doctor, call the police / You bring the razor blade, I'll bring the speed"). Then there's the gorgeous psychedelic pop of "Transdermal Celebration," one of Ween's best songs EVER; "Hey There Fancy-Pants," easily the jokiest song on the record which wouldn't be out of place on C&C; "Chocolate Town," a sweet country-rock tune that may or may not be about pooing; and "I Don't Want It," which I swear is a dead ringer for the second side of Big Star's #1 Record - "Give Me Another Chance" or "Try Again" come to mind. God, I have no idea if that's what Ween was going for with that one. I could be completely wrong, I could.

Few Ween albums are structured like Quebec. While the first half jumps between varied Ween musical parodies and psych-pop-folk musings, the second half dips deep into the murk, turning Quebec into maybe the darkest Ween album ever. The record ends with "If You Could Save Yourself (You'd Save Us All)," another fine example of Ween reinterpreting the pomp of Wall-era Pink Floyd and making it something entirely their own. I am hard-pressed to call the song uplifting, although it is almost anthem-like in its sweep, something that can't be said for many Ween songs. In the end, Quebec - like White Pepper - features Ween delivering more great, refreshingly unironic psychedelic rock, although taking it into much darker (some would say, more interesting) territory. Even the "jokey" songs here (except "Fancy Pants," of course) have a layer of delirious conviction to them, starting off as novelties but breaking down into outright surrealistic fits by the end of their running time.

So White Pepper is almost-perfect pop; Quebec is thoughtful and ethereal. Both represent modern Ween at their absolute best - jokey and fun, but also surrealistically brilliant and unsettling. This trend continues - to a lesser extent - in 2007's La Cucaracha, a record that I guess deserves another listen from me considering that I haven't heard it since it came out. But White Pepper and Quebec, especially in the wake of The Mollusk, continue Ween's winning streak and creativity well into the 20th century. I'll admit that I listen to Pepper more than Quebec - or any other Ween album, for that matter - but Quebec sounds better and better to me with each listen. Which might be why I have more to say about it.

That's all. Listen to Ween. Feel the sheen of the best Ween.

(From now on I am ending every review with a fun rhyming couplet, I hope you enjoy my hilarious wordplay)

Album Review: "Fresh Raspberries" by the Raspberries

2009-06-18T15:45:00.005-04:00

you can't resist them. you can't

So I think I screwed the pooch with last week's Big Star writeup, guys. I had a lot of things I wanted to say - a whole cache of killer lines pent up in my head - that just did not come out in the heat of the moment. I choked, I did! I had this whole bit about how Big Star opened up an alternate pop music universe to me as a teenager, how they introduced me to all this other great underground rock music. Because Big Star seriously meant a lot to me, you know? They deserved some extensive words.

But no, no. I rushed the entry and ran off to a cabin in New Hampshire. And I barely even described what their music sounded like! Yeesh!!

My sweet Alex Chilton, I am sorry. I will make this up to you by writing an entry about a band that is in no way related to you whatsoever.

Let's talk about the Raspberries. In the early 70's, the Raspberries succeeded where Big Star did not: they wrote 3-minute guitar-driven pop singles and were very very popular for it. This was not due to a lack of accessibility or talent on Big Star's part; as I mentioned in the last entry, #1 Record probably would have been a big hit if Ardent/Stax had actually bothered to market the thing (and indeed, several songs off that record sound remarkably Raspberries-ish in retrospect - "Don't Lie To Me" and "Feel," most notably). But that does not change the fact that the Raspberries were much more marketable and mainstream than Big Star ever could have been; where Big Star was mostly introverted and contemplative, the Raspberries were blustery and melodramatic, a fusion of classic 50's/60's pop romanticism and ear-splitting hard rock that was perfectly tailored to the early 70's listening public. With Wally Bryson's simple, epic riffs and Eric Carmen's heartthrob of a voice, Raspberries singles like "Go All The Way" and "I Wanna Be With You" were simply overwhelming celebrations of teenage lust and hard-rockin' good times, the kind of songs Big Star just were not able to write.

And I mean, for God's sakes, they wrote matching tuxedo shirts and bouffant hairdos. How could any hot-blooded 70's record-buyer resist? (They could not.)

I have considered myself a Raspberries fan for a long time now. This is despite the fact that, before I picked up Fresh Raspberries on vinyl only a few months ago, I had never heard an entire Raspberries album. I only knew four of their singles, and hot-damn they were so good I almost felt like I didn't need to hear a whole LP's worth. Because, you know, what if it somehow was awful and ruined that picture-perfect Raspberries mystique I was basking in? But of course, having heard Fresh, I now know that my fears were totally unwarranted. This is a fun, consistent, and - to my pleasant surprise - diverse 70's pop/rock album, probably among the best of its genre. I honestly expected the record to be completely dominated by lead singer/songwriter Eric Carmen - I mean, the guy is a force of nature, how could it NOT be? - but this was not the case. While he does have a lion's share of the songs here, there are not one but two - two - other vocalists/songwriters featured, bassist Dave Smalley and guitarist Wally Bryson. Dave, with three songs, has a pleasant Roger McGuinn-like croon, which suits him nicely on the well-crafted Byrds tribute "It Seemed So Easy" and the country-rockish "Goin' Nowhere Tonight." Wally only has one song, the cute acoustic-driven "Might As Well" that brings to mind the Beatles' folksier efforts (there's a little "I've Just Seen A Face" in there). Both are solid songwriters and sound like perfectly nice guys, and having their songs placed in-between Carmen's King-sized rockers was a wise move on the Raspberries' part.

That's not taking anything away from Eric Carmen, of course. The man was a God on Earth, after all. As a vocalist, he perfectly encapsulated everything that worked about the Raspberries; on a moment's notice - often in the span of a single song - he could effortlessly switch between a sweet romantic croon and a mammoth hard-rock roar that could match any other rock frontman of his era. He also had a perfect flair for dramatics, filling Fresh songs like "I Reach For The Light" and "If You Change Your Mind" with iron-throated yelps and screams that flat-out force the listener to feel every iota of his pain. Unlike the quavery-voiced Alex Chilton, Carmen comes off as something of a power-pop superhero, turning simple odes to teenage love into the most epic of anthems - basically, he's Paul McCartney on steroids. He himself is one of the main reasons the Raspberries were so popular, so it makes perfect sense that he would move on to a successful solo career only a few years later.

Did I mention that Eric Carmen is a Golden God? Yes I think I did. But it deserves several mentions.

The best songs on Fresh are probably the singles - the nigh-perfect (I have used that word a lot here, haven't I) pop song "I Wanna Be With You" and the ballad "Let's Pretend." But the rest is practically as good. My only real problem with the Raspberries was their slight penchant for pandering nostalgia; they were popular in the nostalgia-hungry early 70's, after all, so why not write a blatant Beach Boys homage with "Drivin' Around"? I like the song fine, but it feels a little calculated. Unlike Big Star, the Raspberries don't quite ascend their weighty influences - they don't have the sheer soul and individuality, I guess - but they at least do good by them. There is no denying that they were a great rock 'n roll band, and probably the most epic "pop" band of their time.

Perhaps I have been comparing the Raspberries to Big Star a few too many times in this review. This is probably because there is so much I forgot to say about Big Star before - a lot of stray thoughts, if you will. They are two very different bands, but they are both great at what they did - straight-up pop-rock that makes you feel good. What makes the Raspberries so special, of course, is the sheer confidence they exhibit, the way they demand your attention. They simply cannot be denied. Do not resist them.

Do not resist the sweet taste of the Raspberries.

(P.S: Be sure to check out Adam Spektor's complementary review of the Raspberries' first record that I know you will enjoy. As we are both experiencing a simultaneous rush of Rasperrymania right now, we decided to put out our Raspberries reviews at the same time. Wow what fun!!)

Comic Update: Rockin Rick #1-6

2009-06-16T23:25:00.006-04:00

So a year ago I drew a silly one-off comic for my campus newspaper featuring a character called "Rockin' Rick." I liked Rockin' Rick, so I used him in many many more comics despite all good logic. Eventually my good friend Stephen Winchell, a human being who can actually draw things that do not look horrible, decided to draw a few himself. Eventually Steve and I collaborated on a whole lot more Rockin' Ricks, and kept the strip going twice a week for a semester.

Rockin' Rick is special to me because it is the first comic I ever made that somebody liked. Still, a lot of other people (i.e. people that did not know and pity me) didn't. Rockin' Rick, in its early days, was a straight-up gag comic with one joke. If you didn't like the joke the first time, you were not going to enjoy it repeated twenty-plus times. Daily Campus comics readers learned this the hard way.

Still, Mr. Winchell and I would like to keep Rockin' Rick going in some way during our post-grad lives. So Steve, in all his loving generosity, decided to redraw the first six Rick strips I ever made. You will quickly notice that the art is very nice but the writing is very very wordy and clunky. That is just how I was a year and a half ago. That is how I still am. I am sorry.

Anyway, enjoy. Or hate. If you like them, maybe Steve will redraw more of them? (Note: he will anyway, no matter what you think)

A Few Words On Big Star

2009-06-11T03:59:00.005-04:00

Chill, chill dudes

I discovered Big Star when I was 18 years old, about a week before I started my freshmen year of college. It was during what was possibly the most awkward transitional period of my life - leaving home for the first time, saying goodbye to high school friends, trying to tie up as many loose ends as I could before the summer ended and I left town for good. For me, it wasn't just the usual nerves that inevitably accompany going to a new school; always a dramatist, I honestly felt that after the summer of 2005 ended, my entire life would irrevocably change, and coming back home would never be the same again. And so it was in this state - lying in my basement room with half of my belongings scattered around me, awkwardly stuffed into suitcases and boxes - that I listened to #1 Record for the first time. And of course, the timing was perfect.

I don't remember how I first heard about Big Star - most likely, it stemmed from hearing the Flaming Lips' LateNightTales compilation, which includes a Chris Bell track. All I know is that, upon hearing them for the first time, I felt like I had hit the motherlode - the crown jewel of cult rock bands, America's greatest lost pop stars, the first alternative-pop band, whatever hyperbole you could heap upon them. Up until that point, I would mostly buy records my more knowledgeable friends recommended to me; rarely would I take it upon myself to find my own music and recommend it to them. So my discovery of Big Star was, at the time, a moment of irrepressible excitement. After reading Allmusic.com's claim that the band were second only to the Velvet Underground in terms of revered American cult bands, I managed to find their two-fer CD with #1 Record and Radio City tucked away in my local Best Buy's CD rack without a label - as if it were some kind of hidden treasure. And upon actually hearing the music at hand, I realized the hype was justified - and thensome. It baffled me that such beautiful, accessible pop music could be created by a band that nobody had ever heard of.

And I mean nobody. Nobody. Even the Velvet Underground had a place in the public consciousness, what with Lou Reed's solo success and whatnot. But even my friends, well-versed in the world of indie rock, had never heard anything about Big Star - and indeed, many people I have met since display similar confusion whenever I mention them in conversation. Maybe the reason Big Star remain such a well-kept secret in pop music is that, unlike most cult rock bands, they should have been famous. Compared to the Velvet Underground, whose avant-garde leanings guaranteed them zero mainstream success, Big Star's #1 Record sounds like a ready-made hit - loud hard rock guitars, bright vocal harmonies, and even a healthy dose of acoustic sensitivity. Some claim that, in 1972, people just didn't want to hear the sweet power-pop Big Star were performing, but I just don't see it. What about the Raspberries? Or Badfinger? In that vein, could #1 Record songs like "When My Baby's Beside Me" or "Don't Lie To Me" NOT be huge radio-hits? The only thing to blame for Big Star's lack of success was lousy distribution from an uncaring record label. As such, they are maybe America's only cult rock band that never should have been one in the first place.

It's a chicken-or-the-egg sort of thing. Once the nigh-perfect #1 Record didn't even chart, folk-rocker Chris Bell left the band and Alex Chilton further subverted the Big Star formula with Radio City and Third, two albums of utter sadness and confusion intermixed with power-pop wonder. Big Star were never a band that wanted to be a cult band; it was, unfortunately, foisted upon them. For me, this is why if I were to recommend any one Big Star record, it would have to be #1 Record; unlike the albums that would proceed it, it is an unhinged burst of enthusiasm coming from a band who probably felt they could take on the world. But even on #1 Record, Side 2 offers up mostly lovely acoustic ballads, a palpable tinge of melancholy already seeping into their sound.

#1 Record and Radio City are being re-released sometime soon, both on CD and on vinyl; not to mention that a giant four-disc Big Star boxset is underway, consisting of everything the band ever recorded from '68-'75. I can't tell you why there is such a sudden outburst of new Big Star releases this year - what I can tell you is that, most likely, I am going to seek out #1 Record on vinyl. Four years ago, the sheer beauty of Big Star's music gave me hope in the midst of horrible uncertainty - and that's still something I need.

(Fun bonus: A music video for "Thank You Friends," pieced together using lost studio footage of the band. This was especially exciting for me to see - Big Star barely performed in their brief lifespan, and certainly never filmed any promotional vidoes. As such, they have always felt aloof, almost invisible. Just seeing them, even in unexciting candid moments, is really wonderful.)

Beach Boys Double-Review: "Carl And The Passions - 'So Tough'" and "Holland"

2009-05-31T17:01:00.000-04:00

not particularly exciting art but hey

I have always had an affinity for once-popular rock musicians that are, for whatever reason, forced out of the public's eye and yet continue to release music on a regular basis despite the fact that nobody is really listening. This often leads said musicians to either boldly experiment with their music, freed from the constraints of public expectations, or to blatantly attempt to recapture said public by writing fresh new "hit" singles that ape the sound that once made them so popular. Either way, it often makes for unusually exciting music, allowing us to see a side of a popular rock band that we would never see otherwise. And in my estimation, no other rock group had a more interesting down-and-out phase than the Beach Boys; after Brian Wilson's mental collapse during the aborted SMiLE sessions in 1967, the rest of the band were left without the input of their chief (read: only) songwriter and resident genius, and as such were forced to take hold of the reigns themselves in order to keep the band alive. And it was in this state that they somehow lasted for six years - from '67 to '73 - managing to put out an album every year, no matter the quality. This led to some confusing, warped, and sometimes frightening records (Friends and Surf's Up, anyone?), but it also led to some brilliant lost gems. Most Beach Boys aficionados cherish these albums for the SMiLE remnants that occasionally pop up for a track or two ("Cabinessence" and "Surf's Up", most notably), but the fact remains that the other members of the band, while not Brian Wilson-level wunderkinds, were pretty solid songwriters by any other standard. During this six year period, they led the Beach Boys through their last "progressive" era before they became a cornball nostalgia act in the mid-70s fronted by Mike Love.

I've reviewed a couple of these so-called "lost" Beach Boys albums before - 1967's Wild Honey and 1970's Sunflower. The thing about those two records is, despite their nigh-anonymous status, they are critically revered. The same can't be said for the two records I will review here: 1972's Carl and the Passions - "So Tough" and 1973's Holland. These two records represent possibly the most unusual chapter in the Beach Boys' career, after longtime collaborator Bruce Johnston left the band and young newcomers Blondie Chaplin and Ricky Fataar were brought in as an attempt to "modernize" their sound. These changes allowed the band to abandon the quirky pop-rock showtuney stuff Johnston had been pushing and develop into a serious-minded hard-working rock band often compared to Steely Dan. This, obviously, is a far cry from the heavenly Pet Sounds-era vocal group so many people associate the Beach Boys with; and as such, these records were not only commercially ignored but critically maligned, a trend that continues today. Sure, parts of Holland get some recognition, but that's about it; most just couldn't accept that the Beach Boys were attempting something genuinely different.

I can see the problems with these records. They're obvious. Blondie Chaplin and Ricky Fataar, despite their obvious talents, don't quite gel with what the Beach Boys are going for and contribute a few songs that aren't particularly exciting (and, for whatever reason, are the longest tracks on both albums). And there are some moments of embarrassment, mostly coming from Mike Love and Al Jardine - including a bizarre stab at Maharishi-inspired gospel on Carl and the Passions ("He Came Down") and a silly spoken-word environmental message on Holland ("The Beaks Of Eagles"). But honestly, it isn't hard to look beyond these flaws; I mean, they're no worse than "Student Demonstration Time" on Surf's Up or "Got To Know The Woman" on Sunflower, two more celebrated post-SMiLE releases. When you're dealing with the Beach Boys in the early 70's, you've gotta prepare to dig through a little crap. Thankfully, you won't have to dig too deeply here to find to the good stuff.

And hey, there's a lot of good stuff on these two records! Let's talk about it. Passions's opening track, "You Need A Mess Of Help To Stand Alone," is one of the Beach Boys' most unusual, fractured pop songs, featuring an unsettling piano lick, quavery Carl vocal, and cutesy country-rock bridge. Then there's "Marcella," a reworking of a 60s-era Brian Wilson demo that has to be one of the Beach Boys' smoothest, grooviest pop-rock hits of the 70s. Then there's "All This Is That," an ethereal sort of hymn that features the Beach Boys' classic harmonies in full-swing, easily more spiritually successful than the awkward gospel "He Come Down." Continuing on Holland, we open with the Brian Wilson/Van Dyke Parks track "Sail On, Sailor," possibly the best track on each of these records and one of the Beach Boys' finest songs, period. While it does have an atypical sound in context - Blondie Chaplin sings lead, with harmonies relegated to background status - the song is just so good, and Chaplin's vocals so soulful, that you won't care. Then you've got three of the most unusual tracks on any Beach Boys record: Mike Love and Al Jardine's "California Saga," a three-part song cycle that is easily the most ambitious project these two would ever attempt. While the aforementioned "Beaks of Eagles" is a pretty awkward spoken-word thing, "Big Sur" is a pleasant country-tinged ode to the beach and "California" is a gorgeous piece of nostalgia. I can't imagine Mike Love writing a better song. Carl's "The Trader" and Brian's "Funky Pretty" also deserve mention - they're nothing shocking, but they're solid pop-rock songs.

But then, of course, there's one other outstanding reason to dig into these two records - Dennis Wilson. Always the Beach Boys' ace-in-the-hole they never knew they had, Dennis only has two songs apiece on each record, and for whatever reason he only sings his own songs on Carl And The Passions, but man - what songs. What a talent. Besides Brian, Dennis clearly has the most distinct, individual personality out of any of his bandmates; the two songs he sings on Passions - "Make It Good" and "Cuddle Up" - are tucked away near the second side, and they are two of the prettiest on the album, both lushly-produced piano-ballads sung with Dennis's rough, broken, yet utterly beautiful voice. None of the other Beach Boys, not even Brian, could sing these songs with the same heartbroken effect; they're completely Dennis's. While their placement on the album is a little jarring - hearing these full-blown productions after the laid-back "Hold On Dear Brother" doesn't quite feel right - they stand on their own as true gems. And while Dennis doesn't sing either of his two songs on Holland - the bizarre "Steamboat" and the lovely "Only With You," both sung by Carl - they both remain standout tracks. Just hearing Dennis's development as a songwriter is worth the price of admission here, and it's no wonder that the guy would go on to produce a wonderful solo album (not to mention that he recorded his own version of "Only With You" later on - which you should listen to right now).

So yes. These are two very unique, utterly listenable Beach Boys records that by all means you should own if you're a fan. Deciding which one is superior really depends on personal taste - Holland if you love classic Beach Boys, Passions if you love Dennis Wilson. Either way, I never thought I would ever bother to listen to either of these records, ever. Lousy reviews drove me away. Then I picked them up on vinyl as a curiosity, and I've been playing them more than any other record I own. It's not just that the bad tracks are so interesting, it's that the good tracks are so, so good. And the good easily outweighs the bad here. These records are much more consistent than people make them out to be. Many will tell you that after Surf's Up, they lost it. That's not what I'm hearing. If either of these were released today by anonymous indie-rock groups, they would be hailed as classics.

Seriously, The Beach Boys would never sound this unusual or progressive ever again. I've heard that the addition of Chaplin and Fataar actually made them a great live band, culminating in the well-received Beach Boys In Concert LP which I sadly haven't heard. But that would be it. Immediately after Holland, the Endless Summer compilation would shoot them back into nostalgia-driven stardom, and their next album 15 Big Ones would destroy their critical reputation. So enjoy these smooth grooves while you can! You will hear nothing else like them. I assure you.

P.S.: Here's a fun promo video of "You Need A Mess Of Help To Stand Alone," which reminds me of something I forgot to mention in the review - that is, the fact that the Beach Boys had become horrifying bearded mountain men in the early 70s. Just so, so, so much beard. You've been warned.

P.S.S.: But seriously, why do people hate Carl And The Passions so much? Amazon.com's review says something along the lines of "THANK GOD IT'S ONLY EIGHT TRACKS." I mean, maybe I shouldn't look to Amazon.com for prime music criticism, but really. How could anybody hate a record that ends with "Make It Good," "All This Is That," and "Cuddle Up"? Come on. Those songs are so pretty. Come ONNN.

Comic Update: Sean Rose Indie Reviews

2009-05-23T17:05:00.004-04:00

Well that didn't work out so well did it??

This one took me a while to format. I wasn't happy with it for a while! But I think it turned out presentable.

But man I know I say this every update but I gotta do some things to this blog. Things change-related. Maybe a new banner? More updates?? WE'LL SEE